


The Beach House

by PageSix



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageSix/pseuds/PageSix
Summary: Slightly alternate universe.  I had the germ of an idea: what if Miranda knew Andy as a child, prior to hiring her at Runway?Written quite a while ago. Originally posted to FF. A few minor fixes.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 61
Kudos: 369
Collections: MirAndy





	The Beach House

The Beach House

Some people fall in love in an instant at first sight. Some people fall in love slowly, after spending time to get to know their partner and discovering their similarities. Some people, like Andrea Sachs, combine the two. An initial, all encompassing infatuation that never dies out, but burns down to a smoldering bed of embers, cooking the feelings to perfection.

Andy’s love flared up over her 13th summer while vacationing at her grandmother’s beach house. The season began like all the others before it. School let out, and the Sachs family packed up and headed east. It was a fourteen hour drive crossing from Cincinnati, but it was easier and cheaper than trying to fly the family out. The family would stay at the beach for two weeks, then mom and dad would head home, leaving Andy and her younger brother Danny to stay with grandma for the entire summer.

When the family arrived in Niantic that summer, they noticed a few changes had occurred. The town was improving. Apparently, the shoreline area had been found by some of the rich and want to be famous out of New York City, and the shoreline was experiencing its renaissance. The house next to grandma Ellen’s had been completely renovated and was being leased out to some of the more elite New Yorkers.

Grandma Ellen’s house maintained its New England quaintness, without being rundown and Andy was thankful she would not be embarrassed if some rich kids moved in next door for a couple weeks. The town was also hosting a few new fancy restaurants that were giant steps above the standard crab shacks and pizza houses that dotted the shoreline.

Despite the changes to the town, Andy’s vacation started off like always. She spent her mornings sleeping in, often not arising until 11 am. She would run errands for Grandma Ellen, mow the small lawn weekly, spend the afternoons reading and dozing on the porch hammock, and would prowl the shore in the early evenings. Andy did not hit the beach as a sun worshipper since she inherited her mother’s Irish blood and would burn to blisters regardless of the over use of sunscreen.

Andy often made transient friendships with seasonal and weekly renters, but her greatest friendship was with her brother. She and Danny had always been compatible, never sliding into the sibling rivalry that affected so many of their friends. This summer, however, Danny was going to head back home with the parents. The poor boy was in need of dental braces and would have to be in Cincinnati for all the oral work.

The first two weeks of vacation flew by. Andy and Danny spent all their time together, even pushing the lawn mower together. When it was time for the family to leave, Andy tried valiantly to be strong, but as soon as the car pulled out of sight, she ran to her room to hide her tears in her pillow. By dinner time she was feeling sad, but had her emotions under control. Ellen tried to cheer her up with the standard parental conversation, “There’s sure to be a lot of kids around this year, Andy. I bet you’ll have a great time making new friends”.

Andy simply murmured a weak sound of agreement and shoveled more lasagna into her mouth.

The third week of July began with a flurry of activity at the house next door. Andy awoke from an impromptu afternoon nap to the sound of car tires chirping into the driveway. She peeked out her window to see an “older” couple stepping out of a chauffeured town car. The man was dark and ruggedly handsome, like a model in a magazine, except he was starting to let himself go in the fitness arena. He was getting a little soft and was beginning to carry a slight paunch around his belly, but he could still pull off a well tailored suit.

The woman, on the other hand, was the epitome of elegance. She had porcelain skin and her face was framed by blonde hair that she wore in a loose bun. She was of average height and slender build yet her posture and presence made her seem statuesque.

Andy felt an odd pull of kinship toward this pale goddess. She was also taken back by the fact that, even though the woman was arriving at a vacation home on the beach, she was dressed to the nines. The four inch heels, black slacks, white blouse and flawless makeup confused and intrigued Andy as she watched the woman stride confidently to the front door, as if she had been here a thousand times before.

Late afternoon brought a slightly cooling breeze back off the water, so Andy headed out to mow the lawn. Her grandmother was not one to suffer unnecessary noise and refused to own a power mower, which meant Andy had to use an older wheel push mower. It was quiet, but it was harder work. Thankfully, Ellen enjoyed gardening, so the grassy part of the lot was actually fairly small.

While passing back and forth, Andy noticed the woman next door was sitting out on the back porch sipping ice tea while taking in the views. She seemed sad and her focus was very far away. Andy stopped at the property line and raised her hand in greeting. “Hi”, she called out in her unbridled, youthful exuberance.

A slight smirk quirked across the woman’s lips when she turned to acknowledge Andy’s presence. A cool, soft voice floated across the yard in response, “Hello”.

Andy’s brain seemed to stutter at the sound. It was one simple word, and yet it held more meaning and had greater effect than if the woman had recited a love sonnet. Andy recovered quickly and jumped in with abandon.

“My name’s Andy, well, it’s really Andrea, but everyone calls me Andy. I live here with my grandma in the summer. Do you have any kids?”

A shadow seemed to flicker briefly across the woman’s face before she answered in kind, although in a slower, more thoughtful pace, “Lovely to make your acquaintance ‘Andrayha’, whom everyone calls Andy. I am Miranda. My husband James and I are here for the next two weeks on vacation, and, no, I have no children.”

“Aww, that’s too bad. There aren’t any kids around the block yet this year. And my brother Danny had to go back to Cincinnati to get braces, so I don’t have anyone to hang out with. Do you want me to mow your yard for you? If you let it get too high it brings in more bugs. You sure don’t want to attract any ticks, I’ll tell you what.”

Miranda had to work hard not to laugh at the precocious girl. Eyeing the lawn, she had to agree it could use a trimming. With no desire to chase after the rental service to find a maintenance person, she graciously agreed to the offer. “If you really have nothing better to do, I suppose I could hire you for your services.”

“Hire me?” Andy asked with a note of surprise. “You don’t gotta pay me. I’d be happy to do it for a glass of lemonade.”

Miranda did laugh at that, surprising herself with the burst of joy she felt. Yet, even with the jovial mood she suddenly found herself in, she couldn’t stop herself from pointedly correcting the girls grammar. “I do not have to pay you. But I will agree to your terms. One glass of ice cold lemonade for a well trimmed lawn. How much time do I have to prepare your ‘payment’?”

“With the size of your lawn, I’d say it’ll take an hour.”

“Right, then. Have at it, young Andréa, and I will see you in one hour with promised aided lemons.”

Andy stood gaping for a few moments as Miranda rose and turned into the house. The way Miranda had pronounced her given name sounded exotic, and beautiful. Conversely, her pronouncement of the shortened nick name sounded harsh and distasteful. Andy decided it was only right that the beautiful woman Miranda would be the only one she would want to ever use her given name. In fact, she would prefer it with her.

Andy worked hard to get the lawn finished in her allotted time. At the hour mark, she had just two more passes to make, but Miranda emerged right on time with a tray carrying glasses and a pitcher of home-made lemonade. Andy pushed the mower even harder to get the job finished. With the job completed and the thought of an ice cold drink waiting for her, Andy left the mower and sprinted to the steps of the porch only to be stopped by Miranda’s icy voice, “You’re late.”

Andy was taken aback by the harsh tone and struggled for an explanation, “I, uh… I guess I underestimated the size of the yard…”

“Your excuse is weak and simply unacceptable.” Miranda softened her voice, but her eyes still held Andy frozen in her steps. “In business, Andréa, you need to be precise. You must finish before your deadlines, and under your cost estimates. In order to do this, you must be brutally honest with yourself and know your capabilities and limitations. I do not expect to ever witness an error of judgment like this from you again.”

Andy blinked a few times, trying to understand the exchange that just occurred. Somehow, she knew Miranda was trying to teach her an important lesson, at least one Miranda thought was important. Andy tried valiantly to push past the sting of the words and absorb the lesson as it was intended.

Miranda watched calmly as Andrea processed everything. Finally, with a terse nod, Andy agreed, “You’re right. I should have been more informed and better prepared. It won’t happen again. I guess you should keep the lemonade.” Andy turned towards home, only to be stopped by Miranda’s voice again.

“Don’t be silly. Of course you may have the promised payment. After all, you worked hard, even if a bit slow,” there was a slight quirk at the corner of her mouth, as if she was trying to stop a smile. “However, I shan’t be as accommodating if this occurs again. Is that understood, Andréa?”

“Yes, Miranda”.

“Fine, that’s all.” she allowed. “Come up here and enjoy your drink” And the issue was forgotten.

Andy sat in a chair next to this amazing, beautiful, confusing woman gazing out over the waves as they quietly shared the vision of the pre-sunset’s shadows over the waves of the Long Island sound. Just as edging darkness blackened the waters, the sound of the front door slamming closed crashed into their silent reverie.

“Miranda? Where are you?” boomed through the house.

Andy turned towards Miranda just in time to catch a wince cross her face in response to the boisterous call of her husband.

With a sigh, Miranda softly responded, “Out here, James”

The back door flew open with a bang that made Andy jump in her seat. “Miranda, golf is so my game.” he exclaimed as he burst through the door. “I beat the pants off Stanton toda… Oh, hey, who do we have here?” James asked with loud exuberance.

“This, James, is Andréa. She is our neighbor here, and she was extremely helpful in getting our lawn mowed. Andréa, this is my husband, James.”

“Good to meet you Andrea…”

“It’s Andy”, she interrupted. “Everyone calls me Andy”

“Ah, I see. Well, Andy, it is very good to meet you. I hope Miranda didn’t twist your arm to make you do the lawn. She can be a ball buster when she wants…”

“No” Andy said a little too loudly, and a little too emphatically. “She didn’t even ask. I offered” For some basic innate reason, Andy felt she had to defend Miranda. James seemed too comfortable with the teasing verbal assault against Miranda’s character, and Andy felt a surge of protectiveness in response.

The strength in Andy’s voice caught Miranda’s full attention, and she smiled softly, amused that this little slip of a girl could think that she, Miranda Priestly, needed to have her honor defended. She spoke before emotions got too intense. “Yes, well. Andréa, I believe it is time for you to head home. I don’t want your grandmother unduly concerned.”

“Oh, ok. I guess I should head out.” She stood and placed her empty glass back onto the serving tray. Reverting to her well trained habits of good behavior she held out a hand to James. He took it gallantly and shook firmly, acknowledging Andy’s attempt at maturity. “Goodnight, James. It was good to meet you.”

“You too, Andy. Hope to see you again.”

Turning back to face Miranda, Andy hesitated, unsure of a course of action.

Miranda helped her by taking both of Andy’s hands in her own. She drew Andy closer, leaned up from her seat, and kissed both the girl’s cheeks. “Goodnight, Andréa,” she whispered. “Thank you for your help today.”

“You… you’re welcome. Anytime.”

With a final, gentle squeeze to her hands, Miranda turned Andrea towards the steps.

Andy jumped from the porch and galloped across the lawn to haul her mower back home. After shoving the mower back into the garden shed, Andy turned and waved one last time. “Goodnight” she called out, and then sprinted up the back steps to disappear into her grandma’s house.

“Geez, Miranda. Looks like you captured another one.” James chuckled.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about, James” Miranda sniffed.

“Oh come on. You have that girl so enthralled with you. Must everyone in your life be a fan?”

“Oh for the… James, I swear. Some days you just…”

James broke out in laughter and grabbed Miranda around the waist. Placing a chaste kiss to her cheek, he nuzzled her ear. “Mira, I’m only teasing. I think it’s great that so many young girls are entranced by you. It does nothing if not secure your future as the head of Runway. Just think of all these die-hard fans that will buy the magazine just because you edit it.”

Miranda snorted at this, rolling her eyes in amusement.

“Seriously,” James continued, “you should go on tour. You could build up an entire army of Runway fans. A billion dollar magazine.”

“Come inside,” Miranda responded. “The mosquitoes are out.”

Andy was cleaning up after dinner when Ellen decided to give her the third degree. “Andy, you weren’t bothering the folks next door today, were you?”

“What?… uh No. I just offered to mow the lawn over there.”

“Well, just you remember, young lady… Those people are here for vacation. That does not mean they want kids pestering them.”

“I know, grandma. I just said hi, and asked if they had kids. Then I offered to do the lawn. That’s all.”

“All right. Just don’t be bothering them. Now, would you like to play that Uno game you and Danny are always hootin’ about?”

It was three days before Andy had a chance to offer more than a passing wave to Miranda. She had been out riding her bike and had just turned onto her own street when she saw Miranda walking along the road. Andy rode up next to Miranda and hopped off her bike to walk.

Miranda merely glanced at Andy and offered a brief nod in greeting.

Andy fell in step with Miranda, but the quiet was too oppressive for her. Before 15 seconds had passed she had to break the silence. “Where’s James?” she enquired.

“James had to go back to the city for a meeting.” Miranda answered.

Andy noted sadness in Miranda’s voice. Thinking that it must be due to loneliness, Andy offered her companionship for the afternoon. “Do you wanna have lunch with me? I mean If James isn’t gonna be back?”

Miranda stopped and turned to glare at Andy with pursed lips. “Do you enjoy butchering the English language, or are you suffering a mental defect?”

“Huh?”

“Ah, yes, I see now how you prefer to save your eloquence for deserving folk.” Miranda sneered.

“I’m sorry? Did I do something to make you mad?” Andy asked, once again confused by this enigma known as Miranda.

“Apparently.” was the dry response.

“What?… What did I do?”

“I believe it was more what you said, Andréa.”

“So what did I say? Don’t you eat lunch?”

Miranda’s eyes widened in surprise at the astounding question. “Oh, dear God.” she groaned. “Lunch is not the issue here, Andréa.” Her glare seemed to narrow down and focus its pin point accuracy into freezing Andy’s soul. “Do you really pay so little attention to what you are saying that you are clueless to the fact you sound like an ignorant buffoon?”

“Why do you have to be so mean to me?” Andy choked passed burning tears.  
“I am not being ‘mean’.” Miranda huffed in exasperation. “I am merely pointing out that your use of the English language, which I believe to be your first and probably only language, is simply abhorrent.”

“I don’t understand” Andy pouted.

Miranda placed her fists on her hips and in a quietly mocking tone mimicked Andrea, “do ya wanna?, is he gonna?” Miranda could practically see the light bulb going on in Andy’s eyes. “Do you truly harbor such hatred for your own native language? Really, Andréa, you speak like an uneducated, apathetic, simpleton.”  
Miranda heard her own words leaving her mouth and cringed from the acidity. She was not trying to hurt the girl’s feelings, but, for an editor in chief of a world class magazine, she had no ability to edit her own mind.

Andy was turning red from embarrassment and from trying to keep her tears unshed. She did not understand the reasons, but she knew she wanted to make a good impression on Miranda. She wanted Miranda to like her and maybe even respect her. She felt as if her heart was going to explode from her chest due to the pressure building up. Her brain fought to come up with a witty barb to hurl back, but when her mouth opened, all that came out was a sobbed “I’m sorry”. Then anger flared and she couldn’t stop herself. “I’m sorry you think I’m an idiot. I’m sorry I don’t always speak properly. I may be an “ignorant buffoon” but at least I would never hurt someone’s feelings just to prove a point.” She turned and jumped onto her bike and pedaled off as fast as she could.

Miranda remained rooted to the side of the road. She hung her head in embarrassment. Andrea was only a child. She didn’t need to hit her so hard. Hell, she didn’t need to say anything. It was not her place to correct everyone’s use of grammar. She was so used to living in her world of demanding perfection and verbally castrating people to correct their errors, that it was now second nature. To turn that monstrous affectation on a child was unforgivable. Raising her chin with her decision, Miranda marched down the road towards Andy’s house.

Andy’s bike had been tossed into one of the shrubs at the front of the house. The front door was wide open, and Miranda could actually hear Andy crying from inside the house. Resolutely, she climbed the front steps and stepped into the home, knocking on the door jamb as she entered. She followed the unmuffled sounds of Andrea’s grief up the stairs into the girl’s bedroom.

Andy was lying on her back on the bed, arms crossed over her eyes, muttering through choking sobs, “you idiot, your’re such a moron. Of course she’s gonna laugh at you…”

Miranda smirked and gently said, “going to laugh at you”

Andy sat up, stared at Miranda in astonishment, and then threw herself back on the bed, curling into a tight ball and crying even harder.

Miranda moved to the bed, perched on the edge, and reached her hand out tentatively to rub Andy’s back. “Andréa,” she began. “Andréa, please look at me.”

An angry “no” was thrown out between sobs.

“Andréa, please do me the courtesy of allowing me to apologize to your face.” Miranda stated in a steady, unemotional voice.

This seemed to reach Andy and she began to calm. Rolling over onto her back she stared up at Miranda with a blotchy wet face and angry red eyes. “Fine” she huffed.

Miranda was torn between laughing at the girls pouting countenance and anger for putting herself in this position in the first place. She grasped Andy’s hands, just as she had that first night, and, rubbing her thumbs over the girl’s knuckles, she apologized. “I am so sorry, Andréa. I did not intend to hurt your feelings or to cut you so mercilessly. What you don’t understand, and God willing you never will, is I live in a life that forces me to treat people this way. I have to be harder than everyone else. I have to be meaner, and nastier, just so I can stay ahead. My job is my life, and my life is very demanding. Now, you would think that I could leave it behind when I go on vacation, but apparently, I am not that flexible. I am truly sorry I hurt you. I have no right to inflict my unyielding opinions onto you. I hope you can forgive me and we can still be friends.”

Andy, always being a hugger, threw herself at Miranda, wrapping her arms tightly around the slender waist and pillowing her face against the softest décolletage.

“I’m sorry, Miranda. I don’t mean to sound like an idiot. And I’m really not stupid. I just get lazy. Me and Danny always talk like that to each other. We even get worse cause we have a sort of shorthand when we talk. I promise I’ll try to do better. I will pay attention and if I say something wrong, it’d be ok if you want to correct me.”

Miranda was running her fingers through Andy’s hair which seemed to calm them both. “Yes, well, let’s not beat a dead horse, as they say. And it’s ‘Danny and I’, not ‘me and Danny’”

“Ok,” Andy grinned up at her.

Miranda disentangled herself from Andy’s grasp, patted the girl’s cheek and stood to leave. Stopping at the door, she looked back over her shoulder and added, “If we’re going to have lunch, you best get yourself cleaned up.” And then she left.

Andy bolted from the bed and dashed into the bathroom. Face washed and hair brushed, she flew down the stairs, yelling as she went, “Gram, I’m going for lunch with Miranda. She invited me, so it’s ok”. And she was out the door.

As Andy started up the neighbor’s front steps, the door opened and Miranda emerged like a queen from the shadows of the house. The woman had touched up her makeup and switched her flats for heels, but to Andy, it looked like she had gone through a total transformation.

Andy tripped on the top step and almost fell to her knees.

Miranda smirked, “Careful there, kiddo. We don’t want to have to take a side trip to the emergency room.”

Andy tried to cover her embarrassment with a question. “Are we going somewhere?”

“You said you wanted to have lunch, so I thought I’d take you out.” Before Andy could respond, the crunch of tires sounded behind her. “And here’s our ride now. Come along, Andréa.”

Andy followed Miranda silently to the black town car waiting in the driveway. A tall grey haired man was waiting, holding the door open for them. As she slipped past the man, Andy offered a shy “Thank you”.  
The man tipped his hat at her and winked.

Andy grinned at this and sat back to enjoy the ride. It didn’t take long before they were pulling into the Saybrook Point Inn. Andy sunk down in the seat, face turning scarlet as she reviewed her outfit of the day; blue jean cut off shorts, white tank top and red converse sneakers. Andy prayed that having Miranda as her accessory would keep her from being tossed out on her ear.

Miranda noted Andy’s discomfort, but in true Miranda fashion, simply ignored it. As they approached the front door, Miranda grasped Andy’s hand and held her close, guiding her through the front doors and all the way to their table. It was as if Miranda had thrown a cloak of invisibility over Andy just by holding her hand and claiming Andy as her own. No one questioned Miranda Priestly, and that included her arrival at an upscale restaurant with a street urchin in tow.

They enjoyed their lunch of lobster bisque and salads overlooking the marina. Miranda ate silently, but Andy, as usual felt oppressed and had to chat.

“Do you own a boat, Miranda?’

“No, Andréa, I do not.”

“Don’t you like boats?”

“It is not a matter of liking them. I simply do not have a use for one. I prefer to have my feet on solid ground.”

“You get sea sick, don’t you?” Andy asked impishly.

“I… it doesn’t matter. That’s all” Miranda tried to dismiss Andrea’s curiosity.

“Ok. I’ll let it rest… for now.” There was definitely a threatening undertone to her words.

“Thank you, oh so much” Miranda replied, her sarcasm dripping like sap from a sugar maple.

After lunch, the pair took a walk along the boardwalk, stopping to spy through the binoculars set up along the railings. They found their way to the ice cream shop and Miranda bought Andy a cone. The rest of the afternoon was spent watching people and dissecting their fashion choices, which had Andy in tears of laughter from Miranda’s biting commentary.

As the day wore on, Miranda found she was truly enjoying Andrea’s company and was surprised at the intelligence locked behind the brown doe eyes. Feeling loathe to end the day out Miranda suggested they extend their adventure to dinner and a movie. Andy phoned Ellen to inform her of the change in plans and the duo set off to enjoy their summer evening.

They arrived home after dark and Andy’s house was lit up like Times Square which stood out in complete contrast to Miranda’s place. The darkness of the house was off-putting. James had obviously not returned from his emergency trip back to the city. Andy was aware of how still Miranda became when they pulled into the darkened driveway. Before getting out of the car she whispered, “Do you want to come over to our house?”

“No, thank you, Andréa” Miranda replied in a soft, almost sweet voice. “It is very nice of you to offer, but I think I can manage an evening alone. You head on home and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ok Miranda. Thank you again for today. Goodnight.”

Andy climbed out of the car and ran over to her house.

Miranda watched her go, a wistful look on her face. She took a deep, cleansing breath and exited the car to let herself into a silent house. She locked the door and turned into the house, leaving the lights off to shed her clothes as she made her way blindly to the master bedroom. She started the bath, retrieved a glass and a bottle of wine from the kitchen, and returned to soak away her pains. As she steeped herself in lavender, the fragrant steam filling her senses with a soothing balm, Miranda allowed her thoughts to wander.

‘James is a good man. I do love him, but I think we’re drifting apart. I know he wants a family. I know a child could cement us, but I’m not ready. There is so much for me still to do. Obviously, I like children. At least I like Andréa. She’s a lovely girl. A bit rough around the edges, but smart. With my guidance that girl could go very far. But that’s silly. As if I would ever have the chance to mold her. A bright, funny girl… one can only hope she succeeds. I will speak with James. Perhaps we may consider children in a five year plan. Maybe that will assuage his yearnings for a family. I should be settled well enough with work to consider this. Nigel is coming along well. I’m sure if we continue to surround ourselves with competent help I could leave him in charge while I take a short leave. Of course, I can also work from home…’

Two glasses of pinot gris and a tub of lukewarm water had Miranda more than ready to go to bed. She exited the tub and wrapped a bath sheet around her body. She caught her reflection in the mirror causing her to pause. Stripped clean of makeup and looking generally damp, Miranda examined her face intently. She was no longer youthful, nor was she by any means old. But, she was tired. Shadows had set under her eyes, which appeared dull and haunted. She stared hard at the glass that told only truth and tried to interpret what was being said. ‘Too old to have children, too old to change your life so drastically.’

Miranda pulled herself up straight at the thought and stuck her tongue out at herself. “Too old? Bah. I’ll show you too old.” She went to bed peeling the sheets back and slipping into the encompassing coolness of silk.

James returned early the following day and they spent the rest of the week out on day trips visiting local wineries, Old Mystic Village, and a casino. Over the weekend, they hosted a small cookout for James’s work acquaintances, with Miranda magically assuming the role of the dutiful wife. She cringed inwardly at the very thought of the role, but she and James had always been willing to sacrifice in support of the other’s work. If she had to play the coquettish wife to help James gain a partnership at his firm, then she would swallow her pride and flirt with the best of them. Thankfully, they made the visits to the wineries before the party.

Andrea had spent the days after the lunch date in the old hammock on the back porch, reading her books and watching for signs of Miranda. She was uncomfortable with James, so whenever he was around, she made herself scarce. Sadly, every time she saw Miranda, James was close behind, so Andy didn’t get a chance to talk with her.

During the Priestly’s party, Andrea hid herself in her room to watch through her window. As the evening progressed, she noticed one of the men always following Miranda. He was always in her vicinity and watching her intently. At one point, Miranda stepped to the side yard to dump a bag of trash in the waste barrel when the man appeared at her side. Andrea’s hackles went up at the man’s nearness to Miranda. She could not hear what they were saying, but when the man reached out and actually touched Miranda’s cheek, Andy exploded. “Hey, you knock it off” she hollered.

The man jumped guiltily, looking around for the intruder, while Miranda just offered a real smile towards the second story window and mouthed “thank you” to the air.

Early afternoon the next day, Andy was dozing in the hammock when she felt a weight drop down next to her. Opening her eyes, she was startled to find Miranda sitting by her feet. She couldn’t read the blank expression on the woman’s face so she started down the safest path she knew.

“I’m sorry, Miranda. I wasn’t spying. I was just looking outside when…”

“Andréa, you don’t need to apologize.” Miranda interrupted. “I actually wanted to say thank you for your help with that matter.”

“Oh…uh… your welcome?”

Miranda chuckled at Andy’s questioning tone before continuing. “That gentleman, and I use the term extremely loosely, is an unbelievably odious boor. Because he is a partner at James’s law firm, he believes he can help himself to anything, or anyone he desires. So I thank you for saving me from having to ‘rip him a new one’ and causing James to lose out on a promotion. Your timing was impeccable and the lecherous bastard was able to save face. No embarrassment equals no backlash. You, my dear Andréa, are a hero.”

Andy sat with mouth agape, stunned beyond the ability to speak.

Miranda winked at her, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and walked back to her house before Andy could recover. Miranda looked back in time to see the grin spread across Andy’s face, which caused her to laugh outright.

The following week offered no chances for Andy to interact with Miranda. She was busy with a few babysitting jobs, and James was around every moment she was free. So she would take up residence in her hammock to wait for the fleeting moments when she would at least see Miranda.

Saturday morning was a perfect day for the end of a vacation. The clouds loomed overhead, dark and heavy, just waiting for the order to let loose the torrents.

Andy had been up since six, waiting for a moment to arise to say goodbye to Miranda. The town car arrived at ten and the rain began at 10:01.

Andy stood by the car, holding a small bouquet of fresh cut flowers from Ellen’s garden when Miranda and James stepped through the front door for the last time.

James escorted his wife to the car under a large umbrella.

Andy stepped aside to allow the driver to open the door for his fare, so she had a full audience for her final act.

Miranda paused, looking at the girl. With piercing eyes she scanned Andy from head to toe and back, a slight smirk flitting across her face before her gaze stopped at Andy’s eyes.

Andy was thankful for the rain since it helped to hide the tears. She shoved the flowers into Miranda’s hand and grabbed the woman tightly around the waist, pulling her into a bear hug.

Miranda rallied from her surprise and placed her hand gently to the back of Andy’s head. When Andy finally looked up, Miranda offered her a small, intimate smile. “It was lovely to have met you, Andréa. I expect great things from you” she stated sagely. She then bent and gave Andy a kiss. It was not a lover’s kiss by any means, nor was it a chaste kiss of acquaintances, but rather an intimate kiss between very good friends.

Andy stepped back from the embrace and allowed the Priestlys access to the car. She raised her hand in farewell as the car backed out of the drive, and then stood in the road, watching, as the car drove away and disappeared around the corner.

Soaking wet and teary eyed, Andrea ran to her bedroom. She dug through the old desk and yanked out a spiral notebook. At that moment, she began her career in writing. She wrote for hours, beyond the point of hand cramps. She was desperate to get every moment down on paper so she wouldn’t forget. She wrote it all, her memories, her emotions, and her daydreams. All of it creating a pedestal on which to set the memory of Miranda Priestly.

She pulled out the Runway magazine Miranda had given her and cut out the picture of the editor in chief to paste into her journal. And then she wrote some more. She wrote her plans for her future, how she would be a writer, or a photographer, so she could move to New York and work for Miranda. It would be wonderful. They would be inseparable. Everyone would be envious of Andy for being the best friend of Miranda Priestly.

Summer ended, and with its passing, the intensity of the summer adventure faded. Andy still remembered Miranda, and everything they shared, but with the start of the new school year in a new school building, Andy was distracted from her memories. She still harangued her mother into buying her every new edition of Runway, and she continued to faithfully keep a journal, but her mind’s image of Miranda was beginning to blur. She had the magazine photo to remind her, but it was lacking. It could not capture all that was Miranda, and that was what Andy was starting to lose.

By Christmas, Miranda was now just a face in the magazine. Andy could no longer hear her voice, or smell her perfume. She couldn’t see the half smiles that Miranda used to offer when Andy did or said something particularly amusing.

Occasionally Andy had moments in the quiet of the night, when she would feel hollow, empty of some… thing. Some spark of life that left her longing. But by morning, she would have been distracted from the emptiness with plans for the up-coming winter festival, or her first teen dance, or her piano recital.

FOURTEEN

Winter refused to release Ohio from its grip. Spring battled for an appearance, but even the month of May remained cool and stormy. Finally, June brought in some sun and warmth and by the time school break began, the Sachs children were more than ready to return to Grandma Ellen’s summer house.  
This year, the children were sent on their own by train, allowing their parents to take a second honeymoon trip.

Ellen was at the station to greet them as they disembarked from the train. When she found the children she grabbed Danny in a fierce hug and jokingly asked, “Where is your sister, young man?”

“I’m right here, Grandma” Andy insisted.

Ellen looked up at the girl with a huge grin on her face. “Oh my. Andy! Goodness, look at you. I thought you were just some woman walking along with your brother. You just shot up like a weed.” Then to really make the teasing count she added, “And look! You have breasts!”

Andy turned scarlet. She was so embarrassed she began to sweat. “Grandma!” was all she could get out in protest.

Danny and Ellen were already heading from the platform, laughing hardily.

Andy wiped a hand over her face and muttered, “This is going to be a long summer.” as she followed, dragging her duffel bag.

The first few weeks of the summer were spent re-staining the house. It was a little overdue, but Andy couldn’t do the job alone the year before due to a fear of heights. With Danny there, he could scramble up and down the ladder and Andy could stay safely on the ground.

They were finished by the end of the second week in July and, except for tending to the lawn, were allowed the rest of the summer to be off with their friends. Danny ran with the offer and was off with his friend Kevin McCarthy every day.

Andy initially went with the boys, but realized she had apparently out matured them. After only an hour she was back in the garden with Ellen.

Andy quickly set a schedule of rest and relaxation for herself. She would get up in the morning and help Ellen putter in the yard and gardens before it got too hot. When the sun started to burn, she would take refuge on the porch, lounging in her hammock and reading. Lunch was always a very casual, eat what you can find affair, and then she would be back on the hammock, usually dozing in the afternoon heat.  
Once the sun got past its heat zenith, Andy would head off for a walk or even a run. She decided she needed to get into shape if she was going to try out for the soccer team in the fall. She was not a sports fanatic by any stretch of the imagination, but she figured having a history on team sports would look good on college applications.

The third Saturday of July was overcast and comfortable, so Andy decided to go for a run earlier than usual. She had been out for forty minutes and was just turning back onto her road when she was passed by a black town car. She stumbled to a stop, staring at the vehicle as it slowed and the brake lights lit up. It turned left into a familiar driveway. The driveway was next to her grandmother’s house.

“Miranda,” whispered past Andy’s lips as flashes of memory jumped across her mind’s eye. She looked down at herself and realized she was in a terrible state. She was sweating, her hair was a fright, and she had on an old torn pair of shorts and one of her brother’s tie dyed tees. This was not an impression she would want to make at a bar fight, never mind with Miranda Priestly.

Andy raced to the house and flew upstairs before anyone could possibly get a good look at her. She was stripped to her underwear before she even got to her room. Her shower was probably her fastest on record and when she finished, she dressed herself in a sundress and sandals. Feeling presentable, she went back downstairs and out to the porch to wait for a chance greeting.

“Hey Andy,” Danny’s voice echoed through the house as he made his way to his sister. “Me and Kevin are gonna go down to the shore to go surf castin’, Do ya wanna come?”

Andy cringed at Danny’s grammar and volume. “Keep it down, knucklehead”, Andy hissed.

“What for? Got a headache?”

“No. We have new neighbors that do not need to hear your projected lack of education.” Andy replied in as haughty a manner she could muster.

“What the heck does that mean?”

“It means you’re an imbecile, and it shows.”

“Whatever. I’m headin’ out. When I come back, you aren’t havin’ any of my fish.”

“Like I would want anything you could possibly catch. You probably won’t get anything but some slimy eels.”

Danny grabbed his fishing pole from the garden shed and ran off after banging the door closed.  
Andy sheepishly peeked to the neighbor’s yard to see if there were any witnesses to her idiot brother’s actions. Seeing no evidence of life, she figured she was safe. Just as she sat back into the hammock, Ellen stuck her head out the back door to remind her to mow the lawn.

“But Grandma, I did it last week. It’s Danny’s turn” she whined.

“Well, I don’t see Danny, and it needs to get done before the rain sets in. Otherwise it’ll get all overgrown and you won’t be able to push the darn mower.”

“Fine.” Andy capitulated. “I’ll do it. But I get the next two weeks off.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll chat with Danny tonight. But please get it done now, Andy.”

Andy returned to her room to change again. This time she wore newer shorts and a pink tank top. She was sure she was quite fashionable for doing chores.

While she was mowing, the sun broke through the clouds causing the heat and the humidity to skyrocket. By the time she finished the lawn her clothes were soaked through with sweat and her hair had frizzed into a rat’s nest. She was pushing the machine back to the shed when she heard the sound of a throat clearing.

Looking up, Andy froze like a deer in the headlights under the intense gaze of Miranda’s steel blue eyes.

Miranda’s lips pursed as she took in the image of the girl standing before her. When her eyes met Andy’s her cool voice cut the silence like a hot knife through butter. “Andréa,” a pause to overtly scan Andy’s outfit, “Do you really think pink is a good choice for you?”

Andy laughed. Nervous and even a little fearful, she had no other option. Well, she could have cried, but the laughter seemed to fit the absurdity of the moment better. Of all the greetings she could have constructed in her imagination, she never would have hit on this.

“Hello, Miranda.” Trying to maintain the level of inanity she offered, “Would you like me to mow your lawn? You don’t want it to get overgrown. It brings bugs…”

“What would you charge for the service?” Miranda asked, following Andy’s lead.

“One glass of lemonade for an hour’s work.”

“Only one hour?” Miranda’s eyebrow shot up. “You don’t think it would take longer?”

Andy smirked. “Maybe for a little kid but I can get it done in an hour.”

“Agreed. One glass of lemonade for one hour labor. Homemade, I presume?”

“Only the best for my services.” Andy threw back saucily.

Again Miranda’s eyebrow went up, then a grin broke across her face. “Well, don’t let me keep you. We don’t want to cut into your hour too much.” She disappeared into the house and Andy dragged the mower across the lawn to start the job.

Fifty five minutes later Andy was at the back door about to knock when Miranda appeared with her tray. She had the lemonade as well as some shrimp cocktail and cheese and crackers.

Andy held the door open for her and they arranged themselves around the small table on the back deck. Andy silently arched an eyebrow at the food and Miranda simply stated, “You were looking a little peaked and you finished early, so I thought it would be a nice bonus.”

“Thank you Miranda. That’s awfully kind of you.”

“Yes, well, bon appétit.”

They snacked in silence. Andy kept her eyes focused out over the beach and water, allowing Miranda time to peruse the “new” Andy.

Surprisingly, Miranda broke the silence. “You’ve grown.” she stated in a matter of fact manner. “And you’ve slimmed down, or toned up, or whatever.”

“Yes, I have. I had a growth spurt over the winter. I grew five inches since last July. I just recently stopped limping from the growing pains.”

“Mmm. Your hair is a bit unruly.”

“Humidity and sweat. Frizz every time.”

Silence again descended over them as the waves kept time to the gulls’ serenade.

Andy was the one to interrupt the peace. “Is James here?”

Miranda frowned. “No. He will be arriving later in the week. He was promoted to a partnership and is now dealing with some ‘high profile tax evasion case’. He couldn’t get away just yet.”

“That’s too bad. They’re having a fireworks display tonight over the sound. The fourth celebration got rained out. He’s going to miss a good time, unless it gets rained out again tonight. Do you want to come over for dinner? Gran’s making a pot of fish stew. It’ll be enough to feed an army.”

“As tempting as that sounds, Andréa, I think I will pass for tonight.”

“Ok. Just thought I’d ask, since you’re all alone and everything.”

“Yes. And everything.”

Miranda had an odd expression but Andy couldn’t figure out what it meant, so she ignored it. Not wanting to end their time, Andy decided to continue talking, saying anything to keep Miranda near.

“So, how was your year?”

“My year?” Miranda parroted, taken aback by the enormity of the question. “Well, I suppose my year was extraordinary. I would expect nothing less.”

“Did anything particularly exciting happen? Any good stories you can share?”

“Anything exciting, I assure you, would be for mature audiences only. Perhaps you should fill me in on your year. I am sure it was full of thrills and chills.”

Andy ignored the sarcasm and forged on, doing exactly what Miranda asked, filling her in on the thrills and chills. She went on about the new school, her grades, the dances, her piano recital; she even discussed the start of her menstrual cycle. No topic was sacred.

Miranda allowed the girl to prattle on, her voice actually soothing after a rather difficult week. She half listened to the narrative, allowing a hum or grunt in response now and then. However, Andy’s final topic actually did catch Miranda’s attention. She was discussing her own writing.

“So, you’ve decided you want to be a writer?”

“Well, I’m leaning in that direction. I haven’t stopped once in the whole year. “

“What, exactly, are you writing?”

“Well, I’m keeping a journal, or diary, and of course, I am writing a lot in school. I write papers in English, History, Social Studies, Political Science… I’m writing all the time. And I have to do research for almost all the papers. My mom says that’s sort of like investigative journalism. So I was thinking I may follow that course. I also have been taking pictures. I got a new camera for Christmas and I’m always shooting. This year in school I get to take photography lab as an elective. I’ll be learning how to develop my own film, and get pointers on improving my photo composition.”

“That sounds very intriguing. If you ever need some ‘pointers’ with your work, I would be happy to advise.”

“Really?! That would be awesome. I’d love for you to check out my work. But, I don’t have anything with me, except my journal, and that’s just real personal stuff.”

“Stuff? Well, I can see the first matter you must address is your deplorable vocabulary. I think it would be advisable for you to study the Oxford English dictionary or at the very least, a Reader’s Digest. If you cannot come up with something better than ‘stuff’, I doubt you will go far.”

Andy paused a moment, then jumped back into the game. “Hey, give me a break already. I’m only fourteen. So I don’t have the greatest vocabulary. That’s what I have a thesaurus for. I have a long way to go before I’ll be as smart as you. I’ll bet, by the time I’m out of college, I’ll even be smarter than you.”

Miranda stared at the girl. Astounded by her response, whether brave or stupid, she wasn’t quite sure. Then she noticed the slightly sullen, injured glaze of Andy’s doe brown eyes. She smiled, and then laughed.

“I am sorry Andréa. It appears I may have hurt your feelings once again. Perhaps it isn’t wise for you to turn to me for helpful hints on your career choice. I am obviously too harsh of a critic for your sensitive nature. Maybe, after you graduate college smarter than me, you will be ready to accept my constructive criticism. In the meantime, let us just be friends.”

“I can accept constructive criticism. I just don’t appreciate being attacked because of my ignorance. I am not stupid. I may not have the vocabulary of a dictionary in my head, but I do read. I do learn new words all the time. And I keep a dictionary with me so I can look up new words I come across when reading. If my education and my own attempts to learn beyond school aren’t enough to get me where I want to go, then I guess that will prove I really am too dumb to learn. And if you want to be friends, stop making fun of me.”

The tension thickened as they glared at each other. Miranda was again impressed with the girl’s backbone and Andy was convinced she just flushed a wonderful friendship down the toilet.

Andy knew she was about to cry, again, so she stood abruptly and started for home. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Thank you for the snack. I’ll see ya around, Miranda.”

Miranda watched as Andy ran across the yard. As the girl disappeared into the house, Miranda laid her head against the back of the chair and released a heavy sigh. ‘Dear God, why must I be so hard on the poor girl. Why do I expect so much from her? She is just a child. I’m riding her like she was one of my employees. It’s just going to be wonderful when I have my own children to emotionally abuse. Maybe I should change my mind about that now. I don’t need to bring a child into the world only to destroy its soul. I really am a devil’.

Miranda pushed herself up from her seat and cleared away the remains of their meal. She retired to her room with a bottle of wine and a trashy novel. Escapism somehow seemed the answer to the evening.

The following day brought the rain. It was a steady soaker, causing some minor flooding along the street drains. Andy was content to be stuck in the house since she had her books.

Danny, however, was driving everyone crazy with his excessive energy. When Ellen finally had enough and threw a rain coat at him with instructions to get lost, Danny grinned and tore out of the house as if it were on fire.

Andy had moved to her room to take a nap when she heard a knock on the front door. Moments later, she heard the murmur of voices, and then footsteps on the stairway. She was completely awake when she heard the very soft knock on her bedroom door.

“It‘s open”, she offered hesitantly. This time she was not surprised to see Miranda step through her door.

“May I come in?”

“Only if you promise to not be mean.”

“Yes, well… I promise to try.”

“Fine, come on in.”

Miranda moved into the room slowly, taking in the décor. It was definitely the room of a young girl. She cringed inwardly at the amount of pink. She could not resist her comment.

“Again, Andréa, do you really think pink is a good color for you?”

“Hey, I was five when we painted in here. Give me a break.”

“Yes, a break. It appears I owe you an apology, once again. Somehow, I find myself apologizing more during my two week vacation then I do through an entire year.”

Andrea snorted at that statement causing Miranda to send her a mock glare.

“Anyway, I am here to apologize so; I am sorry I have continued to be so harsh with you. I don’t know if it is simply my evil nature, or if I am lashing out at you because the people I want to lash out at are not available. In either case, I had no right to attack your intelligence. And you are intelligent, Andréa. I must say, even if you do not graduate from a university with a greater vocabulary than I, you will still be smarter. In fact, I think you may be smarter already.” Miranda moved further into the room and indicating the edge of the bed asked “May I?”

Andy nodded and Miranda sat next to Andy. She offered Andy a package wrapped in plain silver paper with a gold band around it. “I brought this from New York with me to give you for your birthday. I must say, it helps that you have already decided to write.”

Andy took the present and, glancing briefly at Miranda to be sure it wasn’t a joke, ripped it open to reveal a leather-bound, monogrammed journal. “Oh, Miranda, it’s beautiful. How did you know?”

“I can’t claim to have known, Andréa. I simply hoped you might develop an interest. I was really quite relieved when you told me you started writing.”

Andy, being Andy, threw herself at Miranda, enveloping her in the hug she had wanted to give her the moment she had seen the town car arrive. “Thank you, so much. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

“It is only a book, Andréa.”

“It’s not just a book. It’s a present, from you. I’ll cherish it forever.”

Miranda had no response to that pledge so she did what she could. She returned the hug.

Andy spent the next few days hovering near Miranda. After Miranda’s apology, there seemed to be a silent agreement between the two to remain near one another. Andy simply glowed while in Miranda’s presence, and Miranda felt a soul deep peace with Andy around. Neither thought much about it, they just accepted the truce.

Andy remained true to her personal schedule, but she traded in her hammock for a lounger on Miranda’s porch. The first day the change was instilled, Andy had followed Miranda home after receiving the journal, chattering on about her ideas for writing projects.

Miranda silently moved about the kitchen, actively listening while making a lunch of fresh salad with chilled salmon.

Andy never stopped her narrative, briefly interrupted with the presentation of lunch she paused for an “Oh, thank you,” and then continued right along, eliciting a smirk from Miranda.

The following days, Andy would get up early for her training run and then join Miranda for breakfast and newspapers.

Miranda was thrilled to experience the intelligence behind Andy’s eyes in conversation. They would go through the papers and discuss everything from front page articles to advertisement layouts. Often, their dissection of the New York Times, and Post would devolve into hysterical giggles in response to an icy glare that was usually tempered with amusement. Afterwards, they would head off for a walk around town, with Andy acting as the interactive guide.

Back at the cottage, lunch would be served and then the two would settle in to read, write, or in Miranda’s case, work. The companionable silence was punctuated with screams of children on the beach, gulls laughing through the air, and waves rushing to clean the shore.

Wednesday brought a change to their routine in the form of James Priestly. He arrived in the afternoon to find Miranda working at her laptop and Andy snoring softly on the lounger. He watched silently from the shadow of the kitchen door, observing as Miranda would pause from her concentrated efforts to gaze almost wistfully at Andy. He finally pushed the screen door open, allowing the squeak of the hinges to announce his presence.

Miranda turned at the sound and offered a soft smile in greeting. James placed a hand on her shoulder and a kiss on her cheek. Gently squeezing her shoulder he whispered, “It looks good, Miranda”.

“Mmm… what’s that?” she asked absently.

“You… with child.” he smirked, nodding towards Andy.

“Yes, well, it may be worth consideration.”

She felt James tense from suppressed excitement. “Do you mean it?” he hoped.

“I have been thinking, James,” Miranda began. “It is an idea I have been playing with. I believe we may now be in positions in our professional lives that we can make adjustments to allow for such a change.”

James’s arms slid around Miranda, pulling her back into his body in a loving embrace. “Miranda, this is wonderful”, he murmured into her ear. He began to nuzzle her neck, placing kisses along the nape, making her purr. His hands began to wander, tracing along her ribs in single minded fashion.

Just as fingers brushed along the sides of her breasts Miranda squirmed out of reach. “James,” she admonished in a hiss with a nod towards her sleeping guest.

James put his hands up and bowed his head in contrite supplication. “Sorry, sorry. I sort of forgot…”

Then, looking directly into her eyes, he allowed his passion to flare again, “later…” he suggested. A brief nod of agreement from Miranda placated his desire for the time being and he settled into a chair to peruse the Times.

Andy awoke with a snort and allowed her bleary gaze to track towards Miranda. Just as she turned a brilliant smile towards Miranda, James came through the door with glasses of iced tea. Without the presence of mind to edit herself, Andy’s smile immediately fell to a frown of disappointment.

James nodded a greeting as he placed the drinks on the table. “Hey there Andy, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Hello, James.” Andy politely responded.

“I want to thank you for keeping Miranda company. I really felt bad sending her up here alone, so I‘m glad you were here to keep her from getting too lonely.”

“Yeah, right,” slipped grumpily past her lips before she could stop herself. Reddening a little, Andy tried to cover her slip of jealousy. “Well, I better get going. I promised Danny I’d go crabbing with him. Miranda, thank you for everything. I’ll see you around. James… I’m glad your back.” she lied. “Take care.”

Andy jumped off the porch and was about to sprint away when Miranda’s voice froze her. “Andréa,” she called out in a firm, urgent tone.

Andy turned back, her eyes locking on Miranda’s to see a sadness flicker briefly over them.

“Don’t forget your journal.” The book in question was being extended out toward Andy in a steady, elegant hand.

Andy trotted back up the steps and grasped her prize. “Oops. Guess I was still sleeping.” she smiled shyly. “Thanks.” She grabbed her journal and turned to run off with a “see ya” tossed back over her shoulder.

James watched her leave then turned his attention back to Miranda. With a smirk Miranda always found annoying, he asked, “So, you sure you want one of those?”

Miranda let out a throaty, hearty laugh and nodded her head in assent. “Yes. One exactly like that, if possible”

James grasped her hand and began tugging her towards the house. “Well, no time like the present, I always say.”

Miranda awoke to the sound of music blaring from some boom box out on the beach. Squinting at the sunlight, she turned to find the clock; 9:15am was not what she expected. Apparently, the alcohol she consumed the previous night and the late night activities she and James practiced, had taken a bit of a toll on her system. She never slept in this late.

Miranda pushed herself up onto her elbows, only to fall back to the bed with a groan. ‘The alcohol definitely has something to do with it’ she thought. Her mind drifted back over the night’s events. The bottle of wine that turned into two. The urgency in James’s ministrations. The pause in activity as she inadvertently reached to the side table for a condom. The question and doubt in James’s eyes as she hesitated. Then the absolute joy that she felt from James when her hand returned, empty of constraints.

The phone rang just after 9:30. Miranda reached for it but was stopped by James. “Leave it. It’s probably those morons at the magazine.”

“Which is precisely why I must answer.” she replied, plucking his fingers off her wrist.

True to their prediction, it was indeed the “idiots” from the magazine. Miranda’s assistant had called with the latest catastrophic crisis that just could not wait for her return. Miranda, realizing that it truly was a crisis for the magazine’s next edition, slipped from bed and began repacking her bags.

“What are you doing?” James asked his voice still thick with sleep.

“I have to get back, James. We’ve somehow managed to lose a five page spread to some law suit and I need to get it back. Or replace it. Either way, I need to return.”

“Oh, well, at least I made it in time for the important part of our vacation,” he leered.

Miranda rolled her eyes and continued with her packing. An hour later the car was in the drive waiting for the return trip to New York. As they pulled out, Miranda was engrossed in a conversation on her cell phone while James had his nose in the paper. Movement caught Miranda’s eye outside and she glanced up just in time to see Andy stop dead in her jogging tracks and despondently stare after the car. Miranda winced internally but returned her attention to the phone conversation.

*****

FIFTEEN

Andy’s 15th birthday was a day she would remember for her entire life. At least that’s what she told everyone. It was the first day she was officially published, with her name in the paper. Granted, it was a cheat in that she was published under the letters to the editor, but her name was definitely in print. She cut out and pasted the entire page into her journal. To make matters more exciting, she was published in the New York Times.

Andy had responded to an article concerning the use of lobby funding at the level of local politics. She argued that as long as there were lobbyists allowed to buy off politicians, the country would never experience a truly democratic union.

The most exciting moment was when she realized her letter was accepted and printed with the editors having no idea she was only fifteen years old. Actually, only fourteen, since it was selected before her birthday.

Andy was proud of her accomplishment, but she somehow did not feel complete with this initial note of success. Pondering her feelings on the matter, she found herself cutting out a copy of her letter, tucking it into an envelope, and addressing it to one Miranda Priestly, c/o Runway Magazine. She knew, for whatever innate reason, that she would not feel complete until she got Miranda’s seal of approval.  
The mail went out, and Andy went back to her immediate life of pre-school jitters. After a summer of training, she was about to try-out for her first ever team sport.

Miranda rifled through her pile of mail in search of a package from Karl Lagerfeld, when she came across an envelope with curiously flowery handwriting. Noting the return address of Cincinnati, she smirked when she realized there was a smile face doting the ‘I’s in her name.

She tore the envelope open and extracted the folded page. Quickly perusing the letter, she was unaware of the smile that spread across her face until she heard the cough of someone choking on water. Looking up, she was locked in by the mischievous eyes of Nigel Kipling.

“What’s that? A blackmail worthy shot of Irv?”

“No, it is a letter from a dear friend. Now, what have you brought me? It better not be anything from the Jaclyn Smith collection.”

And work prevailed, invading and taking over her private moment of wondrous pride. As with all things Runway, Nigel had brought the beginnings of a catastrophe that demanded her undivided attention. Therefore, the envelope with the letter that meant so much to a young girl in Cincinnati was tucked away into a purse for safe keeping, and soon forgotten.

September passed without a word from Miranda. Andy took it in stride, knowing that Miranda, the editor in chief at an international magazine, really did not have the time to waste on some starry eyed young girl. But still, every day she would jump off the school bus and run to the post box, hoping. She lived on hope. But, every day her hopes were dashed.

The worst part in the entire situation was that Andy had opened her mouth at school and opened the door for ridicule. For no discernable reason she shared the story of writing her letter to the editor, getting it published, and sending it off to a professional magazine editor for a personal opinion. With prodding, she confessed who her editor friend was and was immediately challenged to produce proof. Now, with the start of October, Andy was still the brunt of endless terasing.

The letter to prove a personal relationship with Miranda Priestly never arrived. However, the week before Halloween Andy’s belief in hope was stoked.

The phone rang just as dinner ended. Danny ran for it, hoping a phone call would keep him from having to do the dishes. “Hullo… uh yeah, she’s here. Just a sec… ANDY… PHONE!”

‘I’m right here, bone head.” she growled as she yanked the phone from his hand.

“It’s your girlfriend.” he started in a sing song voice.

Her confusion at his taunting came across in her voice over the phone. ”Hel-lo?”

“Andréa.”

“Miranda!”

“Yes. Your letter was well written, the argument concise and supported. I am very proud of you, Andréa. Now I want you to write an investigative expose’ on the lobby situation. You will complete it by Thanksgiving. I expect great things from you, Andréa. That’s all.”

The phone went dead. Andy stood in the kitchen, staring at the handset as the dial tone buzzed. It took thirty seconds before the grin spread across her face. She hung the phone up and then dazedly walked towards her room.

Her mother stopped her before she reached the stairs. “Andy? Is there something wrong?”

“What?… oh, no. Nothing wrong.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“Miranda… Miranda Priestly.”

“What did she want, honey?”

“She called to congratulate me. And she wants me to write an article?”

“An article? For what?”

“I don’t know. She wants me to follow up my letter with an exposé on lobbyists.”

“I don’t understand, Andy. What does she want with an article written by you? Is she planning on publishing it? I’m not sure I like this. Is she using you for something?”

“What? What would she be using me for? I’m a sophomoric writer, at best. There’s no way I’m publishable. She probably just wants to see a sample of my writing. My investigative writing. She said this summer she’d be willing to offer me pointers.”

“I think I need to speak with her first.”

Andy’s dad finally decided to weigh in with his opinion. “Joanna, I really don’t think you need to get yourself worked up over this. The girl wants to be a writer. If she can get guidance from an actual magazine editor, then let her reap the rewards.”

“I just don’t get it, Richard. Why would a woman our age take such an interest in a young girl like Andy? Don’t you think it’s odd?”

“Maybe she just likes kids. Maybe it’s her civic duty… like big brothers and big sisters. She’s a woman who needs a project. I really don’t think it needs to be a problem. It’s only a paper. Next summer, if she’s at the summer house again, you can grill her. For now, just let it rest. If Andy wants to do another paper, it’ll keep her out of trouble.” He grinned at the last comment, knowing Andy was the last kid in Cincinnati who’d get into trouble.

“Besides,” Andy added, “I can get extra credit in Political Science and English if I do this. It’d be three birds with one stone.”

Joanna finally capitulated. “Fine. If you really want to spend your free time stuck in the library losing your vision to research then go right ahead.”

“Thanks, mom. This is gonna be great.”

The article met the deadline.

Thanksgiving came and went and Andy heard no word from Miranda.

Her article earned her A’s in both PoliSci and English. Andy’s grades were Dean’s list material at the end of the quarter and Christmas brought her a brand new lap top computer in reward for her efforts.

Andy’s free time through spring was filled with homework and softball, so her writing was placed on a temporary hold. Her only outlet was her nightly entry in her journal. The journal that was now in its third volume. The journal that had more than half the pages filled with ruminations on Miranda Priestly. The journal that accepted her frustrated rants about the lack of feedback from the iconic editor. The journal that also contained numerous assumed apologies and forgiveness.

Summer came on hot and humid. Andy was gratefully headed to the beach house, but the rest of her family was staying in Ohio.

Danny had decided he was over the “beach thing” and wanted to stay with his friends. He also wanted to try out for the junior football league and had to stay for summer practice.

Andy’s parents had decided that they would take their two week vacation near the end of July so that Joanna could follow through on her decision to grill Miranda Priestly about her intentions towards Andy.  
Andy rolled her eyes at this revelation and begged her mother to tone down the attack. “Mom, Miranda is just a friend. She’s being nice, and I don’t want you to ruin everything.”

“Andy, I won’t ruin anything. Now, you go with your father to the station, and have a wonderful time with Nana. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Andy left with mixed emotions. Excitement ruled, but nervousness and fear were chipping away at her psyche. The train ride seemed to be both too fast and too slow. She had time to dwell on her next meeting with Miranda, but not enough time to decide what to say and how to act. She didn’t know if she should be angry for not hearing anything about her project, or if she should be aloof, and distant, as if nothing mattered. Or, maybe she should just act pleased to see her again. She had not come to a decision, and the train was pulling into her destination.

Andy had two weeks of grandma time. When Ellen was actually at home they would garden, and play card games, and cook. Most days, Ellen was off visiting with her friends, luncheons with the girls, poker at the senior center, and excursions to the casinos.

In reality, Andy had most of her time to herself. She immersed herself in reading, often bouncing between three or four books at one time. She would usually opt for biographies, historic accounts, political opinion, and a classic work of fiction.

Andy took breaks from the books to expand her photo portfolio, creating abstract works by intentionally blurring the focus or altering the shutter speed. In the evenings she would journal her day and many times she etched out ideas to work into research projects or opinion pieces.

As a young teen heading into her junior year in high school, Andy had no time for or interest in boyfriends and dating. Her focus was her work, and her work was her ticket into the world of Miranda Priestly.

At the end of the second week, Andy was staining the back porch when she heard a car door slam. She went to see who had arrived and was shocked to see a black town car in the neighbor’s driveway.  
She stood staring, waiting to see someone. It couldn’t be Miranda and James because they weren’t due for another week. Andy couldn’t imagine someone renting the place for the one week before Miranda’s arrival. But who else would be driven in via a chauffeured town car?

As Andy pondered these questions a flash of moving color caught her eye. Her attention focused on the kitchen window, but the movement did not repeat. Seeing no other signs of life, Andy shook her head and returned to her task. It didn’t matter who the intruder was, as long as they were gone before the following weekend.

Then panic set in. ‘What if Miranda isn’t coming this year? What if she doesn’t come back ever again? What if something happened to her? She could be dead and I wouldn’t even know?’

Andy’s thoughts escalated until she stopped herself and laughed. ‘If something happened to Miranda, there would have been an announcement somewhere. I would have found out.’ She refocused her attention and continued with her staining.

After the staining project was finished, Andy moved on to the front flower gardens to clean out the encroaching weeds. On hands and knees with her head under a shrub, Andy never heard the click of heels on the front walk. A silky voice she was not expecting to hear almost sent her head first into the house.

“I had expected you an hour ago, Andréa. Where has your curiosity gone?”

“Miranda? What are you doing…” Her question died in her throat as she turned and actually saw the woman who stood before her. “Oh my God”, she squeaked as she fell back on her ass. “You’re pregnant!”

A bemused smirk met her when her eyes finally rose past the round belly. Miranda waited patiently for the shock to be absorbed and digested.

As expected, it did not take long for Andy‘s agile brain to process everything before she blurted out the comment that completely astonished Miranda. “Jesus, Miranda… You look amazing”.

The pure, honest emotion expressed so candidly caused a soft blush to creep up Miranda’s neck and spread over her face. For the first time since her pregnancy was confirmed, she felt unconditionally accepted. Everyone else in her life had comments of disbelief, sarcastic support, and envy. Even James, who was ecstatic with the idea of being a father, had slipped with unintentional disparaging comments about her present body condition. But this young girl, whose innate nature was pure kindness, had, in a single moment, erased all the verbal bruises that had stained her heart over the past 6 months.

Andy stood on slightly shaky legs, the weight of the words that had slipped out of her mouth finally sinking into her brain. Stepping into Miranda’s space, Andy opened her arms for a hug but paused, and in hesitation asked, “May I?”

Miranda nodded and opened her own arms to receive the welcomed embrace.

“It’s really great to see you”, Andy murmured into Miranda’s ear.

Miranda leaned back and with a measuring glance, nodded and said with relief, “I truly believe it is great to be seen.”

Andy giggled at that and invited Miranda in for a drink. They found their usual natural rhythm over iced teas.

“Your article was impressive. You did not disappoint.”

“I guess you were too busy being pregnant to call me.” Andy muttered with a pout.

“I was,” Miranda began coolly, “too busy being the managing editor of an internationally renowned magazine, a long suffering wife, and a fighter for equal rights in the work place.”

“Well, yeah, that too.” Andy grinned, letting Miranda know that any unintentional slight was completely forgiven and forgotten.

“Hmmm, yes.” Miranda reached into her bag and pulled out a well worn copy of Andy’s paper. Sliding it across the counter towards Andy, Miranda continued, “I’ve taken the liberty to make a few comments. I trust you are up to creative criticism.“ she added with a smirk.

“Don’t worry about me”, Andy threw back with a sense of bravado, “I can take whatever you want to dish out.”

It was quiet for a while as Andy perused the notes, nodding her head and humming as she went. Once finished she sat back to digest all she read before jumping into the discussion.

“OK. I get pretty much everything regarding structure, but I don’t really understand the last. What do you mean I shouldn’t pull any punches?”

“I mean what I say, Andréa. I always do. You have a great talent for research and prose, but you are too soft with your actual attack. You have the factual support to put half of these men behind bars, and yet you back off and attempt a slight of hand maneuver to protect them. As if they are ‘only doing their jobs’. Andréa, these men have broken laws and the public has a right to know. If this piece was edited well, sharpened, and actually published, there would be an investigation into the current political regime that would put the state on its ear.” Miranda leveled a controlled glare at Andy, “You have the power to cause change. You, Andréa, can right a wrong but only if you follow through with your literary strike. If you pull back to innuendo your credibility goes out the window. If you truly want to pursue this venture, you need to dig your heels in and grow a very strong back bone.”

Andy sat quietly, momentarily stunned. Finally she blinked twice and sat up straighter, “Wow, you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Miranda said in such a matter of fact manner that Andy burst into giggles.

“OK. So I need to grow a pair.” Andy immediately blushed as the words tumbled from her mouth. Swallowing hard, and turning her eyes towards the window to avoid whatever look Miranda was giving her, she continued, “Do you want me to rewrite it?”

“No, no. This was merely an exercise. I simply wanted to see where you were in your development process. If you choose to do so on your own, that would be your decision. I, however have no further writing assignments for you at this time. It is summer vacation, after all. You should be relaxing. God knows I need to.” She ended as she leaned back in the chair, resting her hands on her very round belly.”

“Oh, right.” Andy stuttered sheepishly. “How far along are you? You look like you might pop any minute.”  
With an eye roll Miranda answered, “I’m almost seven months, but I’ve happened to receive a double dose of blessings.”

To Andy’s confused expression she added softly, “I’m pregnant with twins, Andréa.”

“Ohhh…wow.”

“Indeed.” Standing and gathering her things Miranda continued, “Well, I suppose I should take my leave. I do need to unpack and settle into the beach house.”

Andy popped up from her seat, eager to continue her conversation and desperate to not lose the almost intimate connection with Miranda she offered, “Would you like some help?”

Miranda turned back to her to appraise her and nodded once. “If you wouldn’t mind, I could use a hand with the bags.”

Andy followed close behind as they left the cottage.

Later, over their usual lemonade and snacks, Andy continued with her stream of consciousness conversation. “So, where’s James? Did he have a big case again? I’m so glad you’re here early. If you’re only staying the two weeks, you’ll be gone before my mother gets here to read you the riot act. Danny’s not coming out this year because of his stupid sports. He’s playing baseball this summer and he’s going to be on the football team in the fall, so he has to be home for preseason practice.”

“What was that about your mother?”

“What?…Oh, she has some demented belief that you have some nefarious plans for me. She thinks your some sort of weird child molester or something.” Andy thought this was hysterically funny, but Miranda’s expression said she was not amused in the least.

“She thinks what?” Her voice actually rose a point or two in decibels.

“She thinks you have strange designs on my virtue. I don’t know. Dad and I have already told her she’s nuts. But she can’t understand why you would be wasting your time with me. She thinks it’s odd for a mature woman to spend time with a teenager.”

“So your mother thinks so little of you that she cannot understand someone being intrigued with your intelligence and talent? Someone, I might add, who could help you go very far in your chosen field of study? Apparently you did not get your mind from your mother’s side.” Miranda sniffed derisively

“Hey, you don’t have to be mean.” Andy half heartedly tried to defend her mother. “She’s just mid-western and overprotective. You’ll understand when your kids are in the world.”

“Hmmph. I doubt I will react in such an ignorant fashion to an obviously helpful gesture.” Miranda turned her gaze out to the horizon and changed the subject. “James was delayed by work, but he will arrive tomorrow.”

“Why did you come up early this year?”

Miranda leveled a smoldering glare at Andy. Miranda’s voice was so cold when she spoke Andy felt a shiver role down her spine. “Believe it or not, I do not always have free reign with my schedule. There are often commitments I cannot rearrange.”

“Ohh-kaayy. Sorry to bring up a sore subject.” Struggling to find something safe to talk about, Andy returned to the pregnancy subject. “So, did you find out the sexes of the babies?”

Miranda smirked, amused at Andy’s blatant change of subject. “You know I did. I haven’t time for last minute surprises. I am having two girls.”

“That’s great”, Andy exclaimed, truly happy for girls. “Do you have names picked out?”

“I have a few in mind but, I think I’ll keep that a secret until they are here.”

“Cool.”

Silence ensued, both minds suddenly drifting in different directions. Movement pulled Miranda’s attention back in time to see Andrea sink to her knees at Miranda’s feet.

Chocolate, soulful eyes searched Miranda’s for any sign of rejection as Andy reached out tentatively towards Miranda’s belly. Her voice barely a whisper of breath asked reverently, “May I?”

Miranda was too stunned to deny Andy’s request and her head dipped slightly in a single nod of permission.

Andy’s right hand was a scorching heat through Miranda’s silk blouse. Her left hand came into play to frame Miranda’s belly. She did not rub, or pat. She merely rested her hands over the girls offering pure love.

Leaning forward, Andy’s face moved close to Miranda’s belly, stopping with her lips almost brushing the taught skin. Her voice, emotionally low, rumbled from her chest. “Hello babies. I can’t wait to meet you. You two are the luckiest babies in the world. Your mom is the coolest person ever. And I’m gonna be here to baby sit,” Andy paused, glanced up at Miranda with obvious mischief in her eyes, and continued, “and I’ll help you with all sorts of stuff your mom may have forgotten about. But, most important, babies, I already love you.” Her lips brushed against silk before her cheek pressed against the roundness of a crowded womb.

Miranda’s left hand reached up to wipe away an errant tear as her right hand combed fingers gently through Andrea’s hair, massaging against her scalp.

Andy pulled away slowly, a dreamy glaze covering her eyes.

Miranda offered a compassionate smile as Andy returned to her lawn chair. Feeling a need to soothe Andy’s worried countenance she offered softly, “Thank you, Andréa. That was very sweet.”

“My mom told me once that my dad used to talk to Danny and me like that. She thinks that’s why we’re so close to him. Babies can hear things and they say classical music helps to improve their intelligence. I figure if I talk to them now, they might remember me when I meet them.”

“You are a very caring, thoughtful person, Andréa. I hope you are able to remain this way for a very long time.”

Andy’s blinding grin returned. She stood from her chair with a sudden urgency. “I have to go. It’s my turn to make dinner. Would you like to join us?”

“Thank you, but I believe I will pass.”

“Ok. Well, see ya” Andy brightly called as she hopped down the back steps.

“Andréa,” Miranda called out, stopping the girl in her tracks. Once they made eye contact she evenly offered, “Thank you, for helping me this afternoon.”

“You’re welcome.” Andy called back, and then she was off across the lawn.

James did not arrive the next day, nor the day after that. Andy spent both the afternoons keeping Miranda company on the back deck.

Considering Miranda was 6 months pregnant with twins and her husband had, for all intents and purposes abandoned her, she was keeping herself in amazingly good spirits.

On the third afternoon together, Andy had challenged Miranda to a game of Scrabble. As Andy counted out the final word score, Miranda’s hold finally broke. “God damn it.” she cursed vehemently “I could really use a drink right now.”

Andy jumped up to head for the kitchen but Miranda grabbed her arm to stop her. In a calmer voice she continued, “No, Andréa. I meant I could use some alcohol. Obviously, that isn’t going to happen.”

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Andy asked helpfully.

“No… Thank you.”

Hesitantly, Andy tested the situation, “I’m sure he’s just caught up with work. A real tough case”, she offered.

“Oh, he’s busy with something, all right.” Miranda’s voice was thick with hostility.

“Has he called?”

“Of course he did.”

“Oh.”

And the conversation ended. Miranda rose, and placing her hands at the small of her back, paused to stretch. A loud pop sounded from her spine and she moaned in relief. “Dear God”, she murmured. “I don’t think I will ever recover from this experience.”

“I could give you a back rub if you want.” Andy offered.

“That does sound lovely, but I think I need to get myself ready.”

“For what?” Andy asked with a note of worry in her voice.

Miranda glanced at her with weary eyes and Andy could see what she was planning. “Oh. You’re going back home.” she said emotionlessly.

“Yes,” Miranda replied. “I am going back home.”

“But you just got here. You’re supposed to be here for a vacation.” Andy’s voice came out just short of a whine.

“I am aware of what I am supposed to be doing. However, life does not always cooperate with our plans.”

“But this is the second year you cut your visit short.” Now she sounded petulant.

“I am also aware of that.” Miranda’s voice was hard, her teeth were clenched, and she was trying very hard not to bite Andy’s head off.

Andy stopped with her mouth open. Closing her mouth, she squinted her eyes and searched Miranda’s face, studying her body language. Taking a cleansing breath, she started again. “I’m sorry, Miranda. Do you need any help?”

“Do I…? Andréa, I really do not know what to make of you. Thank you, but I don’t need anything. The car should be here soon, and I’m actually already packed.”

“Oh, ok. I guess I’ll just head out then.” She was reaching for the door handle when she suddenly turned and ran to Miranda. She threw her arms around the older woman’s neck and held her silently for a few moments. Then she dropped to her knees, and framing Miranda’s belly with her hands again, she murmured a goodbye to the twins. With a final tearful glance, she left Miranda standing in the kitchen in wonder.

******

SIXTEEN

Andy’s writing after that summer changed in tone. She found herself being very introspective, and it flowed through her pen onto parchment. Often, she would end her days writing letters to Miranda’s twins in her journal instead of her usual factual diatribe. She became a popular byline in her school paper, using humor to verbally eviscerate the school administration. Nothing was sacred. From rats in the school kitchen to behind closed doors innuendo, Andy’s monthly op-ed pieces were passed around with the underscored excitement equaling that of the year book.

She was called into the principal’s office routinely after every publication date, and twice she had an audience with the superintendent. Her parents were called in for those meetings and were not particularly pleased. Andy’s dad figured she was just stealthily moving through her rebellious teen years but her mom was ready to send her off for counseling.

One evening their family dinner turned into an attitude intervention.

“Andy”, her mom began, “will you please explain why you find it necessary to air your dirty laundry in public.”

“It’s not my laundry.”

“Drop the attitude, young lady” her dad intoned.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “but I’m just writing about what I see. I’m writing what my peers want to read about. I’m getting people to read. Isn’t that something worth commending?”

“Honey, I just don’t understand why your writing has to be so… vicious.”

“I’m not vicious, mom. I’m just stirring the embers of guilt. Everyone knows Mr. Branson was having an affair with Ms. Gault. It wasn’t a well kept secret. And nothing in my article actually named names or overtly accused anyone. It’s not my fault my opinion made other people start to wonder.”

“Yes, well your opinion can cause harm. What if one of them was married? You could really ruin a person’s life.”

“I can’t ruin anything.” Andy began to raise her voice in indignant anger “If some married guy is gonna screw around on his wife, he’s the one ruining his life. I just report about it.”

“OK,” her dad’s voice cut in with his own seething anger deepening his voice. “What is this all about, Andy? What are you so angry about? Who are you angry with?”

“Nothing and no one. I’M NOT ANGRY!” she shouted.

“Oh, I can see that.”

Silence reigned for a few moments while everyone tried to control their irritation. Finally Andy asked, “Are we done here?”

“I think we can take a break from this, for now.” her mom answered. “But we reserve the right to pick it up at any time.”

“Whatever,” Andy muttered as she pushed herself away from the dinner table.

Despite the issues Andy was trying to work through, her GPA remained impressive and there were whispers of her being in the running for top of her class. She switched her social networking from the athletic department to more cerebral past times like school government and the debating team. She worked hard to pad her pre-college résumé. She knew her destiny was to make it in New York and she was determined to get there with a stellar education. Thankfully she had all her letters of recommendation in her hand before she started stepping on people’s toes with her writing.

Junior prom was approaching rapidly and Andy found herself dodging more than her fair share of want-to-be suitors. Hiding in the print room one afternoon she was offered the opportunity to have the rest of her time in high school free from unwanted attention.

“Do you always have to hide from so many fans?” a young man’s voice queried.

“Only when there’s a dance coming up.” she half laughed in answer as she turned to see who she was now chatting with.

“Hi”, a hand was thrust out in introduction, “I’m Doug, Doug Webster.”

“Hi, Doug, I’m Andy.”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone knows Andy Sachs.”

“Yeah…well….” Andy blushed.

“So, do you want a break from all the attention?” Doug asked with a touch of mischief in his eyes.

“Yeah, I do. What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s make a deal…” Doug suggested, guiding Andy over to a desk so they could sit and talk.

Andy waited patiently as her new acquaintance tried to formulate his offer. “OK, here’s the thing… You don’t want a date and I could kind of use a cover. So I was wondering if you might want to go with me.”

“You want me to go with you as a date, but not as a date.” Andy summed up flatly.

“Well. Yeah. I know you don’t want to deal with all these jerks chasing you around, fighting for the chance to be the guy who gets Andy Sachs, and I could use a date to get my mom off my back.”

Andy sat back and took a moment to study this young man. He was clean cut, softly spoken, kind of cute, seemed quite intelligent but he wasn’t really a geek. Andy thought he could easily find a girlfriend if he wanted to.

“You’re gay, aren’t you, Doug?” Andy asked in a matter of fact, not really a question, and it was ok sort of way.

Doug blanched, but following Andy’s lead answered honestly, “Yeah, I am.”

“Ok, you got yourself a date”

Andy and Doug became inseparable. Doug’s natural effervescent personality helped to buoy Andy through her teen anger and Andy’s supportive nature helped Doug deal with his feelings of difference.  
Andy pushed Doug to expand his college pool. He had previously only sent applications to a state university and a couple of community colleges due to financial concerns. Andy spent a week searching for financial aid options and with a folder full of possibility, convinced Doug his grades were healthy enough to get him into North Western.

The spring semester flew by and Andy was loath to leave Doug for the summer. So after speaking with Grandma Ellen, she invited Doug to spend the summer in Connecticut. He jumped at the chance and the week after school let out they were sitting on the beach.

Ellen took to Doug as if they were long lost friends. While Andy had to mow the lawn and continue with the upkeep of the house, Doug got to help Ellen with the shopping (air conditioned stores), cooking (air conditioned house), and he was her guest at the weekly poker game (air conditioned senior center).  
Andy didn’t hold it against him though. She knew he needed acceptance and Grandma Ellen was the most accepting person she knew.

Doug began to blossom under Ellen’s attention. His confidence grew and his true personality began to shine.

Mid way through July, Andy began to get antsy. She was jumping at the sound of every car door, and ran to check the front routinely. Doug finally voiced his curiosity on Andy’s fifth trip to the front door in an hour. “Andy, what the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. Are you expecting someone?”

“No.”

“Andy”, Ellen piped up, “Tell the boy about your friend. It’s not like he won’t find out. There’s no way you can keep them separate.”

“Fine.” Andy huffed in exasperation. “I’m waiting for Miranda to show up.”

“Who’s Miranda?” Doug asked, clearly confused.

“She’s Andy’s ‘Henry Higgins’”, Ellen threw in.

“Oh, do tell.” Doug gushed. He was truly intrigued.

“There’s nothing to tell…really.” Andy squirmed. “It’s just… Miranda has been coming here for vacation over the last few years. She’s an editor and she kind of helps me with my writing.”

“An editor?” Doug’s mind whirled. “Miranda… an editor… as in Miranda Priestly, editor of Runway magazine?” Doug’s excitement set off warning bells for Andy.

“Umm… yes?” She meekly replied.

“Oh my God, Andy, She’s a god! Are you shittin’ me?”

“No, Doug.” Andy stressed his name in warning. “I’m not shitting you. Miranda Priestly is my friend and she usually arrives the third week of July.”

“I heard she had a baby this past year.” Doug continued.

“She had two, actually. Twins.” Andy said with obvious sadness.

“What’s the matter, Andy?”

“Nothing. She just…I didn’t hear anything about the babies. I’ve been worried. And the only information I got was through the Post.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing personal.” Doug offered.

“Andy”, Ellen joined in, “The woman is incredibly busy with her responsibilities and she had twins. I’m sure you can understand why she did not just run to the nearest phone to call you with updates.”

“I know, gran. But I’m just worried. I don’t know if she’ll make it this year. I didn’t even get a thank you note for the baby gift I sent.”

“Young lady,” Ellen’s measured voice continued, “You get off that pity pot. You are not the center of the universe. Miranda Priestly is a woman with her own life. A life, I might add, that she has been living long before you were even born. She is very busy with her career and her family. If she can’t seem to pencil you in, your only option is to cut her some slack or let it go.”

Doug and Andy both just stared at Ellen. Andy couldn’t remember Ellen ever speaking to her like that. So, she did what she figured was the best choice… she listened.

Doug stayed until the end of July, but had to return home to, as his mother said, get ready for school. With Doug gone and no sign of Miranda, Andy regressed to hiding in her books.

Over the winter Andy had absorbed a number of pregnancy books and was still very worried about Miranda. She had learned that pregnancy was a gamble and the older the woman the worse the odds. Add to that a pregnancy with twins and the number skyrocketed for possible complications.

Andy had sent a number of letters and had not received a single answer. With the gossip tabloids being her only news source, she knew the babies arrived but there was no official word on the health of any of the family members. Miranda’s absence from the vacation retreat only served to fuel Andy’s concerns. She was tempted to go to New York, locate the Runway offices, and storm the castle to ensure Miranda’s safety. But, she realized that action would not be appreciated by anyone. So, she stewed.

Midway through August Andy finally received notice. The return address on the package was a post office box, but Andy knew it was from Miranda. She could actually smell Miranda’s perfume. Andy ran to her room and tore the wrapping open as soon as the door was kicked closed behind her. Dumping the contents on her bed she was stunned at the sight of a coffee table photography book. The cover was an image of an ultrasound print of two babies. She settled onto the bed and began a visual tour of the first year of the Priestly Twins. There were forty pages of pictures, easily covering every week of the girls’ lives.

Andy went through the book quickly once, and then again, more slowly. She was unaware of the silly grin that had appeared on her face as well as the tears that trickled down her cheeks. When she finished with the book she noticed another smaller envelope on the bed. Opening it, she found a handwritten letter from Miranda.

Dear Andrea,  
I wanted to thank you for the gift you sent. I can assure you, with all  
the well wishers, no one else thought to give the girls their first Eeyore  
and Tigger. I honestly never considered a Winnie the Pooh theme.

I am sorry that I will miss you this year. I am also sorry that I have  
not been prompt in updating you on our situation.  
As you can see, we were blessed with two healthy girls. Caroline and Cassidy. They are absolutely beautiful. And that is despite the obvious bias.  
I have been forced to reschedule my vacation since the whole maternity  
leave debacle. I will sorely miss the beach house this year but I expect  
to be there next summer. You get a reprieve from dealing with the girls  
when they are nothing more than screaming, demanding, diaper soiling  
trouble makers. Next year will be better. I will expect you to watch the  
girls while I get a night out.  
Stay well and stay focused. You are rapidly approaching your future.  
Make it count.  
I expect great things from you, Andrea.  
All my best,  
MP

Andy read the letter three times. She then opened the book to what was easily her favorite photograph. It was a candid shot of Miranda lying in bed, curled around both the girls as they napped. It was beautiful. It was touching. It was unbelievably intimate. Andy grabbed her writing paper and penned a return letter.

Dear Miranda,  
Thank you. I was so thrilled to see the pictures. The girls are so  
Cute. I love their names. Who was the first to arrive? How long  
Were you in labor? Did it hurt terribly? I read a lot and I was so  
worried. I am grateful you are well and the girls are healthy.  
I’m sorry you missed the summer break. I have a new friend who was here. His name is Doug. I think you will really like him. He is apparently a great fan of yours. I have so much to tell you, but now I can’t think of anything. It’s all so irrelevant in comparison to your life. I got into trouble a few times this past year. My opinions are apparently quite volatile. Who knew I could cause such a stir?  
Anyway, I only have one more year at that back woods school and  
then I can spread my wings at college. I’m on track for early acceptance at Northwestern. That is my primary choice. They have an excellent journalism program. I convinced Doug to apply, but we’re still waiting. Anyway, I’m just glad you’re ok. And I love the photo of you with the girls on the bed. It is easily my favorite.  
Thank you, again.  
Guess I’ll let you go. Please stay well.  
Your friend,  
Andy

And so it began. Miranda Priestly and Andy Sachs entered into a pen pal relationship. Granted, it wasn’t a typical pen pal relationship. It consisted mostly of Andy writing weekly letters to Miranda and receiving a single letter around Christmas time. Sadly, that would be the only contact she would have with Miranda Priestly for years. The summer vacations never panned out for Miranda. Her schedule with work became more demanding and her life with her family took up all her remaining time.

******

Miranda had taken a long time to recover from her pregnancy and the birth of the girls. After the birth she was too tired, too hurt, and too busy to engage in any activities with her husband. With postpartum recovery, increasing demands from work, and James‘s increased absence do to work load, Miranda and James had managed only rare and infrequent moments of intimacy. For some reason, missing their summer vacation forced Miranda to realize she missed him.

Just after the twins first birthday, Miranda decided to take steps to shorten the distance that had developed in her marriage. The girls were blessedly cooperative with her plans. Fed, changed and put to bed, they were sound asleep when James arrived home.

He walked into their sitting room to find Miranda waiting for him dressed in a revealing negligee, holding a tumbler of scotch, neat.

“What’s all this?” he wondered aloud.

“It has been too long since we have been involved with our relationship. I thought we might be able to change that tonight.”

Miranda placed the drink on an end table and moved to him. She leaned up against his body, hands running up his chest to grab his jacket lapels. Leaning sensuously against him she tugged him in for a deep kiss.

James responded in kind, wrapping strong arms around her and allowing the kiss to proceed at Miranda’s pace. He was involved completely in the moment until Miranda’s hand dropped to release his belt and unzip his fly.

Miranda suddenly found herself pushed back as he fought for space.

“What is it? What is the problem?” Miranda gasped at him, confused and quickly losing inspiration.

“I can’t, Miranda.”

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?” She coolly demanded.

“I need to tell you…”

“Yes? What is it?”

“Miranda, I’m sorry…”

“What are you getting at, James?” Fear and desperation were clawing up her spine. Her voice sounded shaky to her own ears as her mind jumped to conclusions.

“Miranda”, James continued with a raw edge to his voice she had never experienced before. “There was someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“I had an affair.”

The confession was not cathartic for either party. It was pain, intense and biting. It ripped through Miranda like the claws of a tiger, leaving her bleeding to death. Her ears began to ring, making it difficult to hear as James attempted to explain.

“I didn’t go looking for this. We were so distant in the last few months of the pregnancy. You didn’t even want me sleeping in the same bed with you. And then we just got so carried away with the demands of our lives. The few times we were in the same place at the same time, the girls were in need of our attention. I swear it was not an intentional decision. It was a woman I met through work. A client of Paul’s. I ran into her a few days after meeting her at the office. We talked over drinks. And then…”

“Get out.” Miranda’s voice was practically a whisper.

“What?” James asked as if he hadn’t heard.

“Get. Out.” Miranda pulled her brief robe tightly closed. “Get out of my house.”

“It’s our house, Miranda.” James challenged. He was guilty of a sin, but he believed in absolution. He truly believed if he confessed, he would be forgiven and all would be well between them.

“Not anymore it isn’t.” Miranda stated as a matter of fact. “You will leave this house now. Tomorrow, you will send your representative to retrieve your belongings. You will not step foot in here again.”

“Miranda, Can’t you just…”

“GET OUT!” Miranda screamed.

James had never witnessed Miranda in this state, ever. He did not believe she could kick him out forever, so he capitulated to her demand.

“Fine. I’ll be at the Broadway Marriott. You can call me when you decide you want to talk.”

He left the house, ignorant to the fact she would never call him.

Miranda climbed the stairs somberly. Just as she reached her bedroom landing, she heard a hesitant cry from one of the babies. ‘Timing is everything’, she thought as she turned to her daughters’ room to offer solace to the fussing baby.

Andy read about Miranda’s divorce in the morning’s Post during her coffee house breakfast with Doug. Page six was vicious. “Miranda Priestly, the reigning ice queen of the fashion world, has managed to freeze out the man in her life. That’s right. Mr. Priestly is leaving her his name and the kids, but keeping his pride. But don’t fret readers, Mr. P. has found a hot little number in Susan Christensen to help thaw his frost bite.”

Andy choked on her coffee, bringing tears to her eyes. With one look, Doug knew it was something bad. Her eyes were shining with tears and her hand rose to cover her mouth to stifle a sob.

“What is it, Andy?” He asked, dragging the paper across the table.

She pointed to the page and stared at him in disbelief.

Doug found the blurb that caused the response and leaned back in his seat. “Holy crap…”

“I… I can’t believe this. I need to call her… or, well,… something.” Andy was shaking. She wanted to reach out, but in reality, all she had was the address. Her eyes turned up to Doug again. “She’s alone, Dougie. She only has the girls now. What should I do?”

Doug reached across the table to grasp her hand, stilling it under his warmth. “Sweetie, she’s ok. I’m sure she’s madder than a hornet right now,” he smiled gently, “but she’s ok. Miranda is a mature, strong, smart, powerful force of nature. Some cheating slime ball, even if it is a husband, aint gonna knock her off stride. She’ll be fine.”

Andy squeezed his hand in gratitude, but she knew Miranda was not going to be ok. She knew Miranda really loved James and she knew that Miranda was devastated. She also knew she could not do anything more than send a letter of support. She felt weak and completely impotent.

That afternoon, in a move of solidarity, Andy flexed her emotional muscle. She wrote an essay on the current state of marriage, and a letter to Miranda.

Dear Miranda,  
I don’t know what to say. This may well be the most useless  
letter I ever write. I want to say how sorry I am. I want to say  
I’m here for you. I want to say something that will miraculously  
make everything better. I just don’t know what those words would  
be. I wish I could be with you to offer you my personal support. I  
could help with the girls, or do your laundry, or clean the house.  
Please, know I’m here.  
Give the girls a hug for me.  
Always,  
Andrea

Andrea sent the letter, knowing full well that it wouldn’t come anywhere near fixing things. But she needed to send Miranda support. She was therefore, pleasantly surprised when she received a letter in the mail with a familiar scrawl across the front of the envelope.

My Dear Andrea,  
I find I am in a unique experience. I have never been in this situation so I am not sure what I should be doing. Of course my lawyers are being extremely aggressive, but James really isn’t putting up a fight. I almost wish he would. He is feeling guilty so all he wants is a clean break, or so he says. Work is especially demanding of my time right now, yet, I must be home as much as possible for my girls. Andrea, you are the one person I can tell I am at my lowest. I believe I am truly heartbroken. I knew we were having problems, but I honestly did not know there was another woman. I thought our babies would be enough to keep us together. Now I am forced to deal with that mistake alone. I would use you if I could.  
Andrea, do not make these mistakes. I expect great things from you.  
Be well,  
MP

Andy had no idea what to make of this letter. Did Miranda really mean having the twins was a mistake? Did she regret having children? Was she trying to tell Andy not to have kids, or not to get married, or both?

Andy followed the divorce proceedings as much as she could. She bought subscriptions to all the New York City papers and kept an eye on the gossip rags for any bit of information on Miranda. Initially there were pictures and written innuendo, but soon, the paparazzi had enough of the boring period of separation, and the coverage ended.

Finally, after the obligatory year, there was a sentence blurb on page six of the Post that the divorce was finalized and James Priestly was free. Through the entire proceeding, Runway never stuttered. The magazine continued to come out on top. Miranda’s editorial letters remained thoughtful and thought provoking, but never mentioned her personal situation.

There were no more letters in Andy’s mail, except for the Christmas letters.

******

EIGHTEEN

Another summer brought Andy to the shore for a visit with her grandmother. This year, Andy noticed Ellen seemed to be moving a little slower. She was still sharp as a tack, but her body was definitely slowing down. Andy began to wonder if a future in an assisted living was in the cards for Ellen.  
The woman was stubborn and when Andy even mentioned the idea abstractly in conversation, Ellen adamantly refused the idea. “I will never move into one of those places. I’d rather swim out to sea.”

“Ok, gran. I wasn’t talking about you, anyway.” Andy lied.

Andy made the decision to check in more frequently while away at college. In the meantime, she spent the summer days chauffeuring Ellen to all her social appointments. They also made a few visits to Ellen’s lawyer to “straighten up a few loose ends” as Ellen put it.

When Andy was leaving to head back to Chicago, Ellen told her, “You will fulfill our dreams, Andrea. Great things will come from you.”

Ellen kissed away the tear that spilled over Andy’s cheek. The words she had used were so reminiscent of Miranda’s signature sign off for Andy, that Andy found herself unable to breath as the memories of Miranda’s summers blinded her.

“I know, baby.” Ellen whispered. “The first is always the hardest.”

Andy pulled out of the embrace and gazed thoughtfully at Ellen. Unsure of what she meant, Andy just smiled weakly and grabbed her bag to leave. Her college sophomore year was waiting.

******

As the semester proceeded, Andy continued to dwell on Ellen’s words. ‘What “first” was she talking about? I’ll never figure Gran out.”

This last thought immediately brought Miranda Priestly to mind. Now that was a woman she would never figure out. Three years after last seeing her, the woman remained a touch stone to her thought process. WWMD ran through her mind more often than she cared to think about. Whether she was working on an article for the school paper, or pondering a potential life changing decision, she was always deferring to Miranda in her mind. She now rarely wrote to Miranda, but still received the annual Christmas form letter in reply.

Andy was allowing the brief communication from Miaranda to draw her deeply into melancholy. Thoughts of Miranda prompted her to retrieve her photo album of the twins first year. The book was now stuffed with extra pictures that would spill out every time she opened it. Pictures of the twins, occasionally with Miranda included scattered around her feet.

As she picked through the pile, Andy felt tears spilling from her eyes. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by someone’s fist. She was feeling like she was missing something very great from her life. Her eyes settling on a slightly blurry image of Miranda, Andy released a frustrated laugh. “Yeah, like I would miss the sarcastic barbs and digs’ she thought angrily. She grabbed a nearby pad and began to write.

Dear Miranda,  
I know it’s been a while, but I was thinking of you and figured  
why not. I hope this letter finds you and the girls well. I’m sure  
they must be a hand full now. Three is a busy year for kids. I  
expect you already have schools picked out for them- only the  
best. I was with Gran this past summer. We missed you. Wish  
you would come back. The girls would love the beach. Maybe next  
year.  
I’m doing well at university. I’m on the editorial staff of the paper.  
Expect to be Editor in Chief before I leave. Have a lot to live up to.  
Well, I just wanted to touch base. As I said, it’s been a while.  
Stay well. Give the girls a hug for me. Wish I had met them.  
Always,  
Andrea

She dropped it in the mail immediately, before she could chicken out. It had been too long since her last attempt at contact. As the letter slipped from her fingers into the mail box, Andy felt a sense of relief wash over her. Maybe this was the answer to her loneliness. Somehow, she needed contact with Miranda to remain whole. Andy returned to her apartment with a lighter step.

A couple of weeks later, Andy received a letter. As she tore the envelope open, more pictures tumbled to the floor. She gathered the crop of pictures and scanned through them quickly. All identical red headed girls. Andy smiled at the antics caught on film. Placing the pile on the table, Andy gingerly tugged the linen page from its sheath. Unfolding it, she recognized the harried scrawl across the page.

Andrea,  
I am relieved to discover you do still have the ability to coherently form a sentence. I was beginning to wonder. It is no surprise you are too dreadfully busy to correspond with your old mentors. I can rest easy now, knowing you have not actually forgotten me. For the record, I have not forgotten you either. Nor, do I think I ever will. Do not burden yourself  
with misguided guilt. If you neglect to write for a time, it will not be  
perceived as a slight. I trust your schedule keeps you overwhelmed, as my  
babies do me. But too busy does not equal forgotten or undesirable. Your  
attempts, no matter how rare, are always welcome.  
I too, miss the summer respite. I do not have the liberty to pursue vacations at this time. Perhaps, when the girls are older, we will be able to indulge. For  
now, it is simply quiet time at home that I struggle to achieve.  
I hope these photographs can give you a little of the closeness you desire. One  
day, we will most definitely introduce you to the twins. I’m sure you  
would be a delight for them.  
Stay well, and continue focusing on your studies.  
I expect great things from you, Andrea.  
MP

‘How does she do that?’ Andy wondered, yet again. How did she figure out I was needing to feel close to someone? She’s some sort of mind reader’. Andy decided to make the attempt to write more often. Obviously, Miranda enjoyed hearing from her, even if she did not respond.

******

TWENTY

The icy February wind blasted through the opened door, intent on freezing all the inhabitants as Andy shouldered her way into the Elias-Clarke lobby. She stepped up to the security desk to request a pass for Runway and was in turn asked to wait for a phone check. A moment later the security guard informed her she was not expected and would not be allowed up. Despite Andy’s pleas and protestations, the security guard would not bend. There were a few benches along the perimeter of the lobby, so Andy chose a seat near the front door and settled herself for a sit in.

At 3:30pm the elevator pinged for the two hundredth time since Andy arrived, and Andy stood as she saw a white haired woman stalk off the car. A small group of agitated people parted to allow her to pass then fell in line to follow her out.

Andy hadn’t seen Miranda Priestly in 4 ½ years, but she still would have recognized her anywhere. Despite the different hair style and color, despite the palpable air of power, leadership, and confidence, and despite the collection of sycophant groupies.

Andy moved to place herself in Miranda’s line of sight, but noticing Miranda’s attention was fully on her phone conversation she gathered her own confidence born from a sense of desperation and called out her name in a nervous squeak, “Mir…Miranda?”

At the sound of the voice, Miranda came to an abrupt and full stop. Absently flipping her phone closed and disconnecting the call, she turned with her complete attention to the owner of that voice. Her face never betrayed her surprise, but her own voice was notably confused.

“Andréa? What on earth are you doing here?”

Andy smiled through watery eyes.

When Miranda arched an eyebrow in question, the familiar action coaxed out the sob Andy had been trying to control. Without hesitation Miranda stepped forward, grasped Andy’s elbow and began to lead Andy back toward the elevators.

A questioning voice followed her across the lobby. “Miranda? We’re heading out…”

“We are cancelling.” Miranda ordered, never slowing or turning her attention from Andy.

The elevator ride was silent except for Andy’s efforts to stop her tears. Miranda directed her out of the car and Andy almost collided with a young, harried woman. Miranda began eliciting orders.

“Reschedule to Friday. I don’t care if they complain, I have a more important meeting to attend. Have the girls picked up from school and give them the message that there will be a pleasant surprise at dinner. That’s all.”

Andy was whisked through the Runway hallways at a rapid walk. She half felt she was being dragged to the principal’s office for another dressing down. She was also nervous from the energy she felt emanating from Miranda.

Andy was released into Miranda’s office and directed to sit on the couch that was positioned to the side of the room.

Miranda closed the door, then retrieved a glass of water and returned to Andy’s side, handing the glass to her. “Here, drink some of this.”

Andy did as she was told, then took a deep shuddering breath.

Miranda waited.

The silence grew along with Andy’s nervousness.

At the moment just before Andy exploded in anxiety, Miranda placed a hand on her back and asked softly, “Andréa, what happened. Why are you here?”

“Gran died.” she announced, and the sobbing began anew.

Miranda reached for her, engulfing her in a comforting hug. Holding her silently, allowing her to release all the pent up emotion.

Andy simply clung on for support. Her misery was threatening to choke her, causing her to hyperventilate.

Miranda easily shifted and guided Andy’s head to her lap, running fingers along her scalp, massaging her into calmness.

When Andy finally quieted, Miranda spoke in a gentle murmur, close to Andy’s ear, “I am sorry for your loss, Andréa. I know how much Ellen meant to you.”

“I can’t believe she’s gone. She was always so full of life. I never expected her to die.”

“What happened?”

“Heart attack. No warning signs. Or if there were, she didn’t let anyone know.”

“When did this happen?”

“Last week. The funeral was Monday.”

“Andréa, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

“My family already went back to Cincinnati. They pretty much left right after the will reading.”

“This does not sound like it’s going in a good direction.” Miranda sighed.

“No, it’s not that bad, really.” Andy sat up and really looked at Miranda. “She left me the beach house. My parents think I should sell it. They say it’s nothing but a money trap. But I love the place. I don’t want to lose it.”

A flash of disbelief crossed Miranda’s face. She suddenly sat up a little straighter and she seemed to get stiff. “Are you here to ask me for money?” She whispered through clenched teeth.

Andy started at the question, her eyes grew unbelievably larger and her mouth dropped open in surprise before she gathered her wits again. “No! Oh gosh no, Miranda… I would never…. God, do you really think that I… that you…. Oh, no. Miranda, I would never put you in that position. I would sell the place to the first bidder before I would turn to you for money. Don’t you know that?”

Relief, frustration, and anger washed through Miranda. She was so used to being on the defensive, always watching her back in the business world it easily bled into her personal life. She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of her neck then nervously played with the hem of her shirt.

“I am sorry, Andréa. I, once again, have overstepped the boundaries of our friendship. But then, what would our reunion be if I did not do something to hurt your feelings?” she half joked.

Andy intently studied Miranda. A mischievous glint sparked in her eye. Glancing up to Miranda‘s hair, Andy asked in a curious, nonjudgmental voice “So, why did you decide to go with white?”

“Apparently my hormones since pregnancy have gone berserk and decided I should be a white haired old woman instead of a smoking hot young blonde.”

With a bark of laughter Andy responded, “You are not ‘old’. I think it’s really pretty. And the new style is so… powerful.”

“Well, that is fitting.”

Andy smiled and leaned into Miranda’s shoulder. They sat silently for a few moments before they were interrupted by a knock on the office door.

Miranda turned to face the door but she did not move away from Andy. “Come in.” she called out in her steady, commanding voice.

The door swung open to reveal a pleasant looking bald headed man in a very nice suit. “Um, Miranda, you canceled Hermes for Men? Are we backing out of the spread?”

“Nigel, how nice of you to make an appearance to covertly get information on my guest.”

He didn’t flinch at the dry sarcastic tone. “Well, there was a sudden change under different circumstances, so someone needs to run reconnaissance.”

“Yes, well, this is personal, which means none of your business.”

Andy watched on in fascination. But then she found herself getting a little irritated. Why didn’t Miranda want to introduce her to Nigel. Was she embarrassed? Andy slid a few inches away from Miranda and spoke up for herself. “Hi, I’m Andy. I’m a friend of Miranda’s.”

Nigel’s eyebrows climbed his forehead at the audacity of this young woman and smirked at Miranda, clearly teasing her over the lack of compliance. “Well, hello,” he responded in a voice one would use with a 5 year old. “I’m Nigel Kipling. I’m Miranda’s art director.”

“Former art director.” Miranda intoned.

Andy smacked Miranda on the thigh then reached out to offer Nigel her hand in a proper greeting.

With an amused smirk, Nigel accepted her hand and slightly bowed to her. “Lovely to meet you, Andy.”

Miranda asked directly, “Is there another reason you are here, Nigel?”

“Oh, yes. The meeting was rescheduled to Friday and your number one out there rearranged your day, so you are wide open.”

“And?”

“And I was wondering if you wanted to look at the Cartier collection?”

“Yes, fine. We can get together in 15 minutes.”

“Right. Ok, then. Andy, again it is lovely to meet you. Hope to see you in the future.”

“Thanks, Nigel. Good to meet you, too.” Nigel slipped out, silently closing the door again as he left.

Miranda turned her full attention back to Andy. “So, Andréa, what is the reason behind your arrival at Elias-Clarke?”

“I don’t really know. My folks left, and I was alone in Connecticut, and then I thought of you, here, and I just needed to come. To tell you. I don’t know…”

“Well, you will stay at the town house tonight. You’ll finally get to meet the girls in person. They will be thrilled, I’m sure.” Miranda arose from the couch and moved to her desk. “My afternoon is apparently clear, but I do need to meet with Nigel and do a few other things. Would you prefer to go home or wait here for me?”

“I’ll wait.” Andy answered without any thought.

“Are you sure? Something may come up to keep me late.” Miranda’s voice had a slight edge to it that expressed regret should such an event occur.

“That’s ok. I’d rather stay and watch you in your element than hang around an empty house.”

“Fair enough.”

The meeting lasted for 40 minutes. Andy was amazed with some of the pieces. That a jeweler would actually send pieces and not just photos was unbelievable. But when Miranda explained that those pieces were actually “demos” sent to her, specifically to keep, Andy literally fell onto the couch in shock.

Miranda snorted in amusement at Andy’s reaction.

Nigel smirked at Andy but his eyes widened in surprise at Miranda’s response. In the years he had worked for the woman, he never witnessed such a natural, unguarded response… to anyone. His opinion of this Andy girl just raised 7 notches.

The rest of the afternoon was fairly uneventful so Miranda was actually ready to leave the office at 5:30. The silence in the car began to feel oppressive, so Andy started to nervously chatter as she always had around Miranda.

“I’m sorry for just barging in on you like this. I just figured you would want to know what happened. I know you liked my gran. She really liked you too. I think she had a lot of respect for you achieving all you have being a woman and all. I always thought that she wanted to be something more than she was. I mean, she loved her family, but I think she would have enjoyed working… a career…”

The driver almost drove into the back end of a cab when he heard Miranda’s voice actually responding to continue the conversation. He had never witnessed Miranda Priestly in a “normal” interaction with another human being.

“Andréa, your grandmother was a very strong, competent, and unique woman. I did not know her well, but what I did know of her, I respected greatly. And perhaps, I have the greatest respect and gratitude of the way she helped raise you and your brother. What you saw as wistfulness, I believe may have been simple contentment. She loved having you around and she loved watching you grow up. For you to have done so well and make it into a good college to pursue your dreams and further your career, was, I think, all she really needed in life.”

“I hope your right.”

“Mmm.”

Silence fell again, but this time, Andy did not feel the pressure.

The front door of the townhouse swung open silently to a quiet, calm energy, until the door latch clicked closed behind them. Then the thunder of feet pounded down the stairs with the joyous squeals of unconstrained childhood. “MOMMY!” was the single word released in a mutual shriek as the girls leaped from the last step and slid across the foyer in stocking feet to collide into their mother’s side.

“Hello, my darlings”, Miranda murmured as she knelt to give each girl a kiss on the cheek. Her fingers gently held their chins as she turned their faces up to get a good look at them, then she released them to encircle her arms around them, giving each girl a one armed embrace.

After a moment each of the girls turned slightly timid eyes towards Andy. They were not at all used to having people in the house. Well at least not people their mother actually liked.

Miranda turned them all to face their guest and proceeded with the introductions.

“Girls, this is mommy’s “letter friend“, Andréa.” she began. Before she could take a breath the girls jumped ship and threw their arms around Andy tightly.

“Andy, Andy, Andy…” they began to chant as they laced hands and started to skip around the leggy brunette.

Miranda grabbed the twins by their collars to stop them and spoke firmly through her amusement, “Girls, please. A touch of decorum…”

They stopped, appearing crestfallen until Andy knelt to the floor and opened her arms wide. “Caroline, Cassidy,” she spoke to each girl with full eye contact and the correct name to each. “Give me some sugar.” she laughed.

The twins fell into her arms, kissing her cheeks through hysterical giggles. “God, it is so good to finally meet you two.” Andy choked.

Miranda could see the tears welling up in her friend’s eyes.

“I’m so happy to be here.” The tears slipped past Andy’s lashes, but she didn’t care. These were tears of true happiness. There was no sadness, or regret. It was simple joy that bubbled over, allowing her to forget the weight of her sorrow for a few moments.

After dinner, Andy was chosen to tuck the girls in. After a bed time story and kisses all around, Andy followed Miranda to her study.

Miranda offered her a glass of wine, commenting as she did so. “This is a dessert wine I found in Connecticut. Maugle Sierra vineyard. It is their “Espiritu de St Croix”.

As Andy swirled her wine in the glass, appreciating the rich deep red color, Miranda continued, “They describe it as a smoky wine to share with someone special in front of a fire; a wine to have on a ‘date night’”.

Andy took a sip and her eyes involuntarily closed in bliss.

“Mmmmm, yum. Wow, this is really good. This isn’t just a date wine, it’s no less than a third date wine. That, Miranda, is a bottle of expectation. This should only be shared when there are specific intentions. God, it’s practically orgasmic…. Wow.”

Miranda’s eyes sparkled over her glass as she watched Andrea.

“So, tell me, how are you doing with your studies?”

“Well enough. I am particularly busy with the school paper.”

“Mmm, yes, your pursuit of journalism. How is that with you?”

“I love it, Miranda. Oh, my gosh. I am writing so many articles. Well, you know. I’ve sent most of them to you.”

“Yes. I have received quite a portfolio.”

“Yeah, I had to put my best works together for my internship applications.”

“Yes. Speaking of which, Andréa, I want you to intern at Runway.”

“What?!” Andy’s eyes snapped to lock on Miranda’s. “Miranda… I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can.”

“No, Miranda, I can’t. And I won’t. I won’t use you or our relationship like that.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Andréa. You wouldn’t be ‘using’ me if it was my idea to begin with.”

“It would be too much like nepotism to me. Besides, I already have an internship lined up.”

“Why haven‘t I heard this before? Where could you possibly go that you could learn more than if you come to work for me?”

“I’m going to the Chicago Tribune. They have a very strong intern program there.”

“Chicago? No one does anything noteworthy in Chicago. Really, Andréa, I think you are making a serious mistake. New York is where you need to be. You have so much potential, so much promise. You would simply be wasted in Chicago.”

“Miranda, I am not going to cash in on our friendship for my career. I appreciate your concern and I respect your opinion, but I will not be swayed. Thank you, but I am going to the Tribune next summer.”

Miranda stared at Andy, as she had many times through their long friendship, gauging the girl. Coming to some decision, she nodded her head once and allowed a tight smile to curl her mouth. “You are simply far too stubborn for your own good. I believe it will get you far in your chosen profession. Please do not commit yourself to remaining in Chicago after your internship is completed. It truly would be a waste of your potential.”

Andy laughed with a snort. “Miranda, I never want you to change.”

“Why on earth would I?”

The following morning, as Andy was waiting for her cab she remembered an important part of the reason she had made the trip into the city.

Miranda strode out of the kitchen finishing up the buttons of her jacket.

Andy watched her, debating her actions.

As Miranda’s eyes rose to meet Andy’s her eyebrow inched up in question at the expression on Andy‘s face. “What?”

“Umm… Miranda, I, umm… I want you to have this.” she stammered as she held out a key.

“And what is this? The key to the city?”

“Nooo. It’s to the beach house.”

Miranda’s mouth twitched as she quickly tried to control her reaction.

“I want you,” Andy continued, “to have a place to go to as a getaway. You’ll have the flexibility to use it even for a last minute weekend excursion, or whatever.”

There was a heavy silence as Miranda weighed the gift and its intent. She stared into guileless brown eyes, and knew, the key was offered from the purest of hearts. She decided to accept the offer in the spirit in which it was given.

“Thank you, Andréa. This is extremely kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do. Thank you, again for putting me up last night. I’m so happy I was able to meet the girls.”

“Yes, I expect they will be going on about that for quite awhile.”

A horn sounded on the street, breaking up the farewell. Andy jumped at the sound. “Oh. I guess that’s for me.”

She pulled the front door open but paused when she felt a touch to her elbow. She turned back to receive a buss to her cheek then closed her eyes as warm fingers brushed the same cheek to remove a smudge of lipstick.

“Sorry about that,” Miranda murmured “Go on now. Stay well.”

“Thanks, you too.” Andy called as she trotted down the steps to the cab.

*******

TWENTYONE

Just as Andy had learned of Miranda’s divorce from James via the Post, the news of Miranda’s latest nuptials was splattered over page six for Andy to read on her way into work.

Mainly she was stunned because Miranda never mentioned this man, Stephen Thomlinson. When Andy had met the girls, they talked of everything possible related to work and school, but there was absolutely no mention of a man friend. Andy actually felt cheated. She felt like Miranda was having an affair behind her back. This thought, as it popped up in her mind, made Andy cough out a laugh of absurdity that brought her a few odd looks from fellow train riders.

Andy figured it was just par for the course. She and Miranda had never really been chatty about men and relationships so it was not really a surprise that Andy was not the first to know there was a new man. But, Miranda hadn’t even mentioned it in the last Christmas letter. It just felt to Andy as if Miranda was hiding this relationship, like she was embarrassed by it.

Andy wrote a letter to the twins to covertly scoop information. She hoped the letter would be enough to get the girls sharing information without blatantly requesting any.

Dear Caroline and Cassidy,  
I saw your pictures in the paper today. You both looked beautiful. I was so happy to hear about you getting a new step-dad. I hope you and your mom are really happy. I am working very hard at the paper. I won’t be able to go to the beach house this summer, so even if your mom was to take you, I wouldn’t be able to see you. Maybe, if our schedules work out, I can get down to see you over the holidays sometime.  
Until I do see you, be well and stay out of trouble.  
Love,  
Andy

Dear Andy,  
Stephen is nice. He doesn’t want us to call him dad. Mom really likes him. And he buys us presents all the time. He works real hard so he isn’t around a lot. Mom works real hard too. She says she would like to see you at the holidays too. Our dad is going to take us to vacation this summer. Mom and Stephen went away for a hunnymoon. Mom says they were supposed to go. Dad says Stephen is a wimp and will never last mom. What does that mean? Stephen says we can get a puppy. Mom doesn’t want one. Me and Caroline want a kitten. Do you have any pets? Would you want a puppy or a kitten? Cara said it is supper time. I have to go. Caroline will write next time but she says hi. We miss you.  
Love Cassidy.

Miranda had met Stephen Thomlinson initially when she was in the market for some new, stronger producing financial investments. She was married to James and Stephen was married with a child. After James was legally and financially out of her life, Miranda had gone in to update her investment portfolio and was again directed to Stephen for his help.

They met initially at his office. During that meeting, they both were intrigued by a mutual spark of interest and their ease in conversation. Future meetings turned into dinners, which turned into dates, which turned into weekends in the Hamptons.

Miranda accepted the invitation for a weekend “family getaway” with the complete and honest knowledge that she did not love this man. She was, however, interested in finding a father figure for her daughters. She wanted to give them a stable home life, and she believed there should be a man in the picture for that to be accomplished.

Stephen was already a father of a twenty year old. His ex-wife had maintained custody after they had divorced, but Stephen stayed very involved in the boy’s life. He professed to love kids. So, Miranda accepted the invitation hoping to develop a future merger.

The girls were slow to warm up to Stephen. They were not innately trusting and he had to scrape and inch his way into their acceptance. When they arrived at his house in Easthampton, the girls were a little more forgiving. They saw the swimming pool and they instantly loved Stephen, at least for the afternoon. They ended up having an impromptu pool party and cook out. Stephen was overly attentive to the girls, playing with them and keeping them safe in the pool.

Dinner of steak and hot dogs was a great hit. The girls had never experienced “plump when you cook ‘em” goodness. They retired to bed that night only after obtaining a promise to have hot dogs for breakfast.

After the girls were in bed, Stephen cajoled Miranda to join him in the pool again. They didn’t swim. Nor did they laze about on the rafts. As soon as they were in the water, Stephen turned into Miranda and pressed her against the edge.

“What are you doing?” Miranda carefully protested.

“I was thinking,” Stephen began as his fingers curled under her bathing suit strap, “that maybe we should make this a bit more of a grown up party.”

“Just what are you suggesting?” She smiled as she deciphered his intent.

Pulling the strap down her arm he leaned in to kiss her. “I am suggesting, we lose the suits”

Seven months after landing her “fish” they tied the knot. There was a gallon of ink flowing between them with the signing of the marriage certificate. They each had their lawyers work up acceptable pre-nuptial agreements. Miranda played that point so that Stephen believed he recommended the whole idea to her. She had him insisting that they work something out for her own protection.

They had a binding contract that all holdings previously amassed, including property would not be touchable. Any monies accumulated through payment from their jobs would be untouchable. The only thing they would ever have to squabble over would be any joint investments or purchases made while married.

Miranda was now contentedly wed to a good match. He was bright, good looking, and a fair conversationalist. Not great, but better than a cheater.

******

Andy was mollified with the response the girls sent. Miranda was married, and they all seemed to like the man. That was a relief. Andy was still troubled by Miranda’s avoidance in telling her but she could not figure out the reason why she would be. So, she let it go, forgetting about it and threw herself into finishing her school work.

Andy’s efforts paid off with a 3.9 GPA. She had reached her goals during her tenure as student. She obtained her degree and she was appointed editor in chief of the school newspaper in her senior year.

The internship at the Chicago Tribune was not as educational as she had hoped. She spent the summer running errands, fetching coffee, and filing hard copy. Her hands were constantly chafed and bleeding from all the filing. She learned that interns were treated as slaves, so even the newest reporters were allowed to boss someone around.

As for the business side of the publication world, Andy learned about strict deadlines and stress. By the time she left to return to her final college year of glory, she was disinterested in the world of newspapers. She was harboring regret for turning Miranda down. Surely she would have learned more and would have had a hell of a lot more fun doing it, had she gone to Runway.

Andy’s Senior year introduced Nate into her life.

Andy’s roommate Lily met Nate at a party. The scruffily handsome young man was working as a bartender and Lily immediately thought of Andy when she saw the man smile. Nate was invited to the cave, as they called their apartment, for Sunday brunch.

That Sunday brunch was the start of a grand plan. Over the feast they all chipped in to prepare, Nate revealed his plans for his future.

“Yeah, I’m heading to New York. I got a line on a prep chef position there at some cool bistro. It’s going to be my starting point. Once I get established there, I’ll be able to shop around and move up. I expect within two years to be a sous chef. You guys should all head out there. I mean, Lil, the art world there is phenomenal. And Doug, Where else would you want to be but the capital of finance. New York is the place. And Andy, journalism? New York is the home of the best rated news paper in the country? And there are more publication houses in one block than the entire city of Chicago.”

“I think you may be stretching the facts a bit.” Andy laughed.

“Nah. It’s true. New York is the place to be.”

“Well, I already have a position lined up there.” Doug informed them.

“Dougie, really?! That’s great.” Andy enthused.

“Wow Doug. Why didn’t you say you were looking there?” Lily asked

“Well, I’m sort of superstitious. I didn’t want to jinx the interview.”

“So you’re moving?”

“Not until I finish but, yeah. As soon as I get that degree in my hand, I’m movin’ on up.”

“See?” Nate pushed. “New York is where you all want to be. You should all move out.”

The seed was planted and Doug’s decision to move started the germination process. Andy and Lily began having serious discussions of the pros and cons of a move to New York. Most of the conversations occurred under the influence of alcohol, but they happened never the less.

They also occurred whenever Nate was around, and Nate was coming around with greater frequency as time went on. He fit well with his sense of humor and cooking abilities. He and Andy had hit it off as friends and were spending more time together. By the time graduation came around, Andy and Nate were officially an item, Doug had his job lined up, and Lily was fielding three offers as assistant manager to new galleries.

Andy was happy for all her friends, but she wasn’t ready to move on yet. She had plans to go onto the graduate program. The day Doug and Lily packed Lily’s old Malibu, Nate moved his few possessions into the apartment with Andy. They had developed enough of a relationship over the last year that he decided to postpone his plans to wait for her.

TWENTY FOUR

Andy rushed her program. Skipping her summer beach visits, she was able to complete her degree in eighteen months. Their arrival in New York was celebrated by the foursome at Nate’s new place of employment. He had found another line prep position at yet another cool bistro.

Lily was well established at her gallery designing shows and she was living with two roommates on the west side.

Doug’s job was secure and he was doing well on the personal finance scale and had made the decision to be a pseudo New Yorker and had moved into a condo in New Jersey.

Nate and Andy found a small, almost affordable place in Queens. Andy needed to get a job quickly.

Andy’s decision to forward her résumé to Elias-Clarke Publications was fueled by desperation and fear. She had been in the city for six weeks and couldn’t get a toe in anywhere. In order to get by she had taken a job as a barista on the east side.

Andy hadn’t conferred with Miranda about her move to New York, never mind her current job hunt. Since her refusal to intern under Miranda, Andy felt a strain in their relationship. Their letter exchange had become less frequent with Andy writing to Caroline and Cassidy. The idea of running into Miranda at Elias-Clarke caused Andy’s insides to twist into extremely uncomfortable knots.

Fate is often an enemy to the desperate. With no other job offers and a stomach churning revulsion for working with car crazy, testosterone overloaded, NASCAR racing wannabes, Andy was forced to accept the one job she wanted to avoid.

Working for Miranda Priestly she knew would be difficult on many levels. Although, she believed if Miranda was really angry with her, she would not be hired.

When Emily Charlton was spewing off the job particulars and explained she would be working directly for Miranda, Andy half gulped and half gasped, squeaking out “how’s Miranda?” that sounded like “who’s Miranda?”.

Emily, horrified at this ignorance, went off on such an impassioned tangent that Andy decided not to correct the misunderstanding. She would let Emily believe she had no previous knowledge of Miranda Priestly, editor extraordinaire.

When Miranda pushed through the office doors, Andy’s breath caught in her chest. Her heart was pounding and her hands were starting to sweat. She stared in a stunned silence as Miranda marched into her lair and barely heard the “who is that?” tossed carelessly over her shoulder.

Emily, in her usual status of panic, pushed Andy towards the office for the interview that meant much more to her than a mere job. Before she could utter a sound, Miranda glanced at her with cold contempt and shattered her soul with a few, well chosen words; “And who are you?”

In a nanosecond Andy processed the entire situation; Miranda was pissed. Miranda was hurt by Andy’s refusal to intern at Runway. Miranda seriously carried a grudge. Life would be hell with Miranda until she deemed the debt was duly paid. Andy also realized this was the one way she could achieve forgiveness and be allowed back into the position she cherished and missed; chosen friend. So, Andy decided to play the game by Miranda’s rules… clean slate, no history. Prove thyself worthy.

“My name is Andy… Andy Sachs…”

“You don’t read Runway.”

Andy just knew from the tone of voice that Miranda was expecting her, almost begging her to agree, “No.”

“And before today, you never heard of… me.”

Andy’s face scrunched up as if in pain. She willed herself to continue following Miranda’s lead, “Nooo.”

“And you have no sense of fashion…”

“Well… I guess that all depends on…”

“No, no. That wasn’t a question.”

That admonition almost brought the tears. That voice sent Andy’s mind spiraling back years to the very first summer. The lawn mowing incident- as Andy liked to fondly remember it.

Andy fought valiantly with herself to hold it together and pushed on. But the game was tiresome, Andy was frustrated, and really, all she wanted to do was get up in Miranda’s face and read her a riot act. Clenching her teeth, Andy did fight back with some restraint.

“Ok, your right, I don’t fit in here. I’m not skinny, or pretty, but I’m smart. And I’ll work hard…” Then Nigel came in. He blew past her like she didn’t even exist and monopolized Miranda’s attention. Andy stared, well, glared for a moment before sarcastically thanking Miranda for her time and stomping out of the office.

‘I cannot believe this. Ok, so I hurt her feelings… once. How many times did she hurt mine? And I always forgave her. This is how she acts? She hasn’t seen me in two years and she carries on like this? God! I wouldn’t work for her if it was the last job on earth…’

“Andrea…”

Andy turned at the sound of her name being called out to see Emily waving her back. She ran a mental inventory of her belongings and knew she hadn’t forgotten anything upstairs, so she was puzzled as to the reason behind the beckoning.

“Yes?”

“Come on, she wants you.” Emily stated with an obvious air of disapproval. And so, Andrea Sachs was pulled back into the maelstrom known as Miranda Priestly.

That evening, Miranda was restless. She could not focus on the conversation with the girls at dinner. She could not concentrate on the book. She could not get herself drunk. She could, however, replay her entire exchange with Andrea, over and over. She decided on a long soak in a hot bath to help her relax.

Bathed, scrubbed clean of all traces of icon Priestly, Miranda slipped from the tub and, still damp, crawled into the comfort of her bed. Still anxious, she was awake when Stephen slipped into the room half an hour later. A bitterness leaked from her heart, coating her tongue as she spoke, “Good to see you can still find your way home.”

“Hmph.” He grunted in reply. “I’d be home a lot more often if there was anything worth being here for.”

Miranda closed her eyes tightly, fighting to get her emotions under control. Finally, centered, she proceeded with the conversation. “Stephen, must we always fight. We did share a kindness not so long ago. We did actually care for one another…”

Stephen paused on his way to the bathroom and turned towards the bed. Sitting next to Miranda, he reached out, resting a hand against her neck. “Miranda, all I want is for you to be here for me.”

“I’m here, now, Stephen.” she countered, reaching up to cover his hand with her own.

Silence reigned as they searched each other for direction. Miranda, still feeling an unfamiliar agitation in her soul, broke the standoff. She arched from the bed, wrapped her arms around Stephen’s neck, and pulled him against her, locking her lips to his in an embrace that left none of his questions unanswered.

As her nightgown was sliding over her belly, Miranda knew there was no love involved in this. She knew as she felt rough hands run over her breasts that it was simply an itch that needed scratching. She knew the marriage was over, that she and Stephen were simply pretending, but she was too tired to change anything. There were too many demands on her, and fighting for the idea of a husband was simply not worth the effort, especially when she felt her soul pulled in another direction.

As her body responded to Stephen’s touch, she allowed her mind to drift, finding its focus on chocolate brown doe eyes, and deep chestnut tresses. As Stephen entered her, she moaned in surprise. Her body moved out of instinct, demanding a release. Stephen moved, not to give pleasure, but for self-gratification.

Unaware of her own voice cutting into the room, Miranda began chanting in time with their movement, as visions of Andrea swam through her mind’s eye, “Oh god, oh god , oh god…” Her vocalization pushed Stephen to work harder.

Miranda’s eyes flew open in shock as she felt an orgasm start. Realization of what just occurred struck her and she screamed “Ohhh Fuuuck” as feeling rolled through her body.

Stephen groaned and collapsed across her body. After a few moments of gasping for air Stephen felt the need to comment, “Christ, Miranda, what the hell did you do today? A hostile takeover of some competitor? I‘ve never heard you respond like this… it was… hot.”

He rolled off of her and rose from the bed to go on to the bathroom.

Miranda had one arm covering her eyes as a single tear rolled down her cheek. The enormity of her experience left her no recourse but to shut down. She curled tightly in on herself and prayed for sleep. Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?

******

Life went on. Andy struggled to figure out the rules but she couldn’t keep up with Miranda. She daily subjected herself to Miranda’s ire, accepting the punishing remarks and biting comments as due penance yet, the silent battle raged on. Miranda was intent on tearing Andy down, hopeful to rebuild the girl in her image. However, Andy stubbornly dug her heals in, blinded by frustration and unable to see the whole picture.

The hurricane event was a turning point in the war. When Miranda was delayed in Florida and could not get home to her girls, she put the blame squarely on Andy’s shoulders. How could anyone blame another person for a weather event?

Turning to Nigel to vent her hurt feelings, Andy found an answer to the puzzle. Something in his comments about artistry and beauty began to germinate and grow in Andy’s mind.

'Is that it? Does she think I don’t care about Runway… about her because I don’t subscribe to their ideals of beauty and fashion? Does she think I don’t respect her because I won’t embrace her artistic vision?' Then the image of the Closet floated across her mind. I can’t afford a new wardrobe, but what if I could borrow… “Nigel?… Nigel, Nigel…”

Following the strategy “all’s fair in love and war”, Andy was ready for the battle to resume. In that one moment with Nigel her vision cleared and she realized that she was going to have to change from a defensive to an offensive game plan. Andy may be down a few points, but she was not going to walk away from a shutout.

The next day Andy felt the shift. Miranda’s eyes fell on her and stopped in her tracks. Standing for inspection, Andy felt an odd tingle race through her veins. She observed with a satisfied smirk how Miranda’s mouth momentarily went slack, how she lost her train of thought on the phone, and how her eyes seemed to get smoky as they coursed over Andy’s form. Andy’s brain began to buzz and she almost squeaked when Miranda accidentally brushed against her in passing.

Following Andy’s transformation Miranda’s behavior did not change, but her tone became less cutting and she seemed to take the time to combine errands into groups instead of sending Andy out fifty separate times a day.

Still, Andy was not Andréa. She was not acknowledged. She worked and waited. She came in a half hour early, timed herself on the coffee runs, began offering to run extra errands, anything to gain Miranda’s approval.

Nate didn’t understand her change. He thought she had fallen under the spell of couture and the fancy life styles. All she had ever been under was Miranda’s power. Nate would never understand because he did not know about Andy’s past with Miranda.

Doug knew, so he was the one Andy chose as confidant. Sworn to secrecy, Doug could only sit back and watch as Andy and Nate argued about the changes she was undergoing. Because Andy kept this past hidden from Nate, Doug knew before anyone that their’s was a relationship destined to fail.

Finally, Andy made progress. Finally, she impressed enough for Miranda to use her real name. Finally, Miranda was ready to offer some trust. Andy was to deliver the book to Miranda’s house. Simply bring the book in, leave it on the table and exit.

She had been in the house before, but this time, it all looked different. Miranda had redecorated.

A noise from the stairway caught Andy’s attention. Leaning over the rail, she could see Caroline and Cassidy above her. They had been sent to bed, so they weren’t about to sneak downstairs. Andy was not about to go upstairs since she was told she would be killed if she tried.

Something about the girls’ insistence for her to climb the stairs set off alarms of concern in Andy’s brain. She agreed and began her assent.

The girls immediately ran back to bed, jumping in and yanking the covers over their heads. They had led the sacrificial lamb to slaughter and were now hiding from guilt. But they knew their mom wouldn’t kill Andy and they would have done anything to stop the argument happening in the study.

Andy arrived at the landing as Miranda and Stephen appeared from the study. She gulped down her fears when she realized they were fighting. She bristled with protectiveness when she saw Stephen with a highball glass in his hand.

All was washed away the moment Miranda turned and locked eyes with her. The anger that rose to cover Miranda’s initial embarrassment was a knife in Andy’s chest. Miranda struggled to sort her emotions. Andrea was standing in front of her looking as fresh and pert as she had all day.

Stephen was walking away arrogantly, as if he won the stupid argument. Andrea had broken the rules. Andrea was looking all too enticing. Stephen was an ass. Andrea was slinking off down the stairs with her tail tucked.

That night, Andy couldn’t sleep. She was worried about what Miranda would do to punish her impudence, but a larger part was concerned with her feelings and how she responded to the possibility of drunken violence. She despised Stephen. She never officially met the man, but she despised him. He was not good enough for Miranda.

The saddest part of the situation was Andy realized that she wanted to be the one with Miranda. Years of attraction and longing distilled into raw desire. Andy wanted to push Stephen out of Miranda’s life. She wanted to usurp and replace him. Andy was so screwed.

Miranda did not sleep any better than Andy. She tossed and turned, unable to settle her mind. Andy’s presence at work had been a torture on a daily basis for Miranda. She knew she should have let her go on that first day the girl walked into Miranda’s office. But, emotions from the past blocked out her ability to reason and she gave in to sentimentality. Now the old emotions of fondness had morphed and Miranda realized she was currently feeling desire for this slip of a woman.

Daily, she marched into work to be met by Andrea in some new outfit with her makeup professionally applied, and daily she was finding it more difficult to not act on her feelings. She could not bring herself to actually fire Andrea, but perhaps she could set up a performance failure that would lead to guilt free firing. Her plans backfired every time. Andy succeeded with the impossible and became even more confident in Miranda’s presence and more attractive to Miranda’s desire. She continued to haunt Miranda, driving an invisible wedge between Miranda and Stephen.

The Runway gala at the MET was upon them. Miranda wanted a peaceful, beautiful, glamorous evening. Having Emily coughing up a lung all day was not helping with the overall plan. Miranda was faced with an option that did not make her any happier; Andrea would have to come along to help with the information. Andrea would have to dress up in amazing couture to fit in. Miranda didn’t think she could handle that. As she informed her assistants of her decision, she bit back on the urge to just fire them both. How irritating.

Stephen was drunk again. He had made a spectacle of himself and embarrassed Miranda in front of her boss. Andrea had saved her. It was that moment that it all clarified for Miranda. Andrea saved her from an inexcusable scene because she cared. Everyone else was just watching things unfold, but Andrea stepped in to help her. Andrea, whom she abused and ridiculed, proved she still cared. She realized that she was in love with Andrea. She realized she had always loved the girl but now the love had evolved into emotional and physical desire.

“Thank you.” A simple phrase that carried so much. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for not letting me push you away. Thank you for coming back into my life. Thank you for offering me your friendship. Thank you for being you. So much carried on those two words.

  
For Miranda Priestly, the fiasco of Paris was depressing on so many levels. The end of her marriage, which was only upsetting due to the public aftermath; the dismal display of below average designs; the manipulation of a colleague she honestly respected in the never ending battle to hold onto her life; and the denouement moment of Andrea walking out of her life brought the editor to a near breakdown.

On reflection, Miranda knew she had wished for too much and pushed too far. She had tried to control every aspect of this surreal relationship with Andy and relied too heavily on the battle tactics she had learned through her professional wars.

This mere slip of a girl had entered Miranda’s life like a tidal wave, flowing over, surrounding, filling emotional holes Miranda didn’t even know existed. And now the pain of the finality as she watched Andy walk away, the ebb tide draining everything that was Andrea from her heart, was excruciating. Never had anyone left Miranda feeling so empty and forlorn.

Miranda returned to the states to lick her wounds and repair damages done. Out of guilt and a sense of honor she supplied a shoe-in reference for Andrea and found Nigel a new position in an up and coming fashion company. She placed Emily in the beauty department within Runway. And, as a single parent again, she focused her efforts on her children, cutting back heavily at work. Life would go on.

******

TWENTY SIX

Andy hauled her travel bag out of the trunk and dragged it up the front steps. The heavy rain had caused a few accidents, which slowed the city weekend exodus traffic down to a gridlock; keeping Andy trapped within the city limits hours later than she had planned. It was now 1:30am, the rain had let up to a mere drizzle, and Andy barely had the presence of mind to let her traveling companion out of the car.

While she struggled with her suitcase, her passenger waited quietly for the door to be opened. Once the door swung free, Andy found herself alone on the porch as she was left behind in favor of the responsibility of securing the house.

An unexpected shriek from the master bedroom drew Andy’s full attention. In her hurry, Andy tripped over the coffee table, stumbled into the hallway and slammed into the bedroom doorjamb, banging her head and wrenching her shoulder painfully.

In a fraction of a second, Andy was able to evaluate the situation and despite the throbbing in her shoulder, she doubled over in laughter, her backside against the wall to keep her from falling.

“I fail to see what is so terribly amusing, Andréa.”

The ice cold tone barely made it through Andy’s hysterics. She pulled herself up and, wiping tears from her eyes, tried to focus on the scene in front of her. There, in Andy’s bed, was the Miranda Priestly sans makeup and couture, attempting to protect herself from the 65 pound German Shepherd dog that was standing over her, pinning her down.

“Miranda,” Andy began in utter disbelief, “what are you doing here?”

“Call this beast off and I’ll be happy to tell all.” she bit out.

“Jury, off” Andy ordered, and the dog hopped off the bed without hesitation. “Go lie down.” she added, and Jury went to the corner of the room and curled up on her own bed, settling in to watch events unfold.  
Andy turned a cutting glare at Miranda and demanded playfully, “Seriously? You, the owner of a freakin’ Saint Bernard, calling my dog a ‘beast’?”

Miranda, amazing as always in the sheer control over her persona, pulled herself into a sitting position and haughtily replied, “That was not my dog. You know full well that thing belonged to Stephen. How anyone could possibly think that I would choose to own a slobbering, oafish creature like that, is beyond my abilities of comprehension.”

“Oh knock it off.” Andy countered, “You loved that dog, and don’t even try to deny it.”

“I will admit no such thing”, Miranda sniffed, “That dog was merely another power play by my powerless ex-husband. Although, I will concede that she had a certain oh, I don’t know… charm about her…”

“You’re a phony, Miranda. You always have been. Now, would you like to explain why you are in my house, in my bed, and in my sleep shirt?”

“You gave me your key.”

The simplicity of the statement and the almost pout like quality of Miranda’s voice, caught Andy short. She stared blankly at the woman who never, ever failed to render her speechless. And apparently, it happened again.

The women simply stared at each other. Miranda, face frozen of all expression, waited and watched as a tumult of emotion thundered across Andy’s face.

In those few heartbeats, every moment of their history ran fast forward through Andy’s mind, each timeless memory revealing itself through her ever expressive eyes. Miranda witnessed the anger, the hurt, the joy, the love, the betrayal. There was no self editing available to Andy since she was currently winding down after a 42 hour sleepless marathon.

Finally, Andy was able to refocus on Miranda’s eyes and dully asked, “My key?”

“Yes, of course. You gave me your key and told me to use it anytime. So, with the girls off with their father this week, I decided to start my vacation a little bit early and came up to the beach. I was led to believe that you would be out of town on assignment, so I did not think it would pose a problem.”

“You kept my key?” Andy asked, ignoring, or just not hearing Miranda’s explanation due to shock. Her voice sounded choked up and a little hopeful.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You kept my key!” This time a grin spread across Andy’s face as she became giddy at the thought of Miranda keeping anything she had given her.

Andy stumbled to the bed and sat heavily on the edge next to Miranda. A couple of tears tracked down her cheeks as she pointed at Miranda and accused, “You still like me.”

“Oh, for heaven’s…” the infamous eye roll could not be stopped.

“You do still like me, don’t you?” Andy asked through a flood of insecurity.

“I have never stopped liking you, Andréa. Why on earth would you ask such a thing?”

“Because…I… well, you know….” Andy stumbled over the obvious answers and decided to grab onto the most innocuous reason her brain rambled onto. “You stopped writing me.” spilled from her mouth like the pout of a child.

“Stopped writing you.” Miranda’s habit of restating the more inane comments of others worked amazingly well at making people feel just plain stupid.

“Well… yeah. You stopped writing me and the girls took over. I figured you were done with me. I would have stopped writing myself, but I didn’t want to hurt the girls.” Knowing that this conversation was about to implode, Andy opted to change subjects. “How are the girls, by the way?”

Miranda stared at Andy as if seeing a newly discovered species. She blinked a few times, attempting to adjust her vision before answering with a deep sigh of frustration. “Why don’t you tell me. It’s like we’re a divorced couple and you get to be the fun, care free parent, while I have to be the strict law enforcer.”

“Wha…” Andy started but was cut off.

“No, no. It’s ok. I’m fine with the fact they prefer to write to you and tell you everything while I have to pull teeth to find out what they might want for dinner. I’m told it’s just their age and it will pass.”

“Miranda…I would never do anything to come between you and your daughters.” Andy protested.

Miranda’s face suddenly softened at the sight of heartache on Andy’s face and she took pity on the girl with her response. “I know. With all I doubt in this world, I do fully trust that you would never do anything to hurt my girls.”

“Or you.” Andy mumbled.

“What was that?”

“N…nn…nothing.” Again scrambling to get out of emotional trouble, Andy turned the conversation back. “So, uh, you didn’t answer my questions.”

“Which questions would those be?” Miranda asked with a hint of mischief in her voice.

“Why are you here?”

“I did tell you. Were you not listening? I am here for my vacation.”

“But why here?”

“I always vacation here.” the word ‘obviously’ left out but the intent spoken.

“What?” Andy jumped from the bed as if she were burned. “When?… how?…”

“Good to know you still know how to command an in depth interview.”

The sarcasm was enough to push Andy over an edge she had always tried to avoid. Her response was unedited and, for once, honest, “Oh, bite me. What the hell do you mean you always vacation here? You never take vacations. At least not since the twins were born. So, when were you supposed to have been here?”

Miranda almost laughed at Andy’s loss of temper. With all the crap she had put the girl through she had never before been able to get such a response out of her. Rising from the bed Miranda moved towards Andy as if approaching a scared animal. Wisely adjusting her tone, she came clean.

“I have been coming here over the past few years for long weekends. I always planned them when you were out of town or otherwise engaged so as not to intrude on your time.”

“Over the past few years? Just how often?”

“Often enough so that Caroline and Cassidy consider this to be their vacation beach house.”

Andy sat back down onto the bed, almost missing and falling to the floor. Confusion, hurt, anger all churned in her heart. Softly, in barely a whisper she asked, “Why have you been trying so hard to cut me out of your life?”

“I’m thinking that this is a conversation that should take place after you get some rest. You appear to be exhausted and I don’t think a brain maintaining its consciousness on caffeine is up to this event. Why don’t you go to bed and we can continue this tomorrow…or later this morning.”

Andy’s breathing was already slowing as she succumbed to Miranda’s words. “Yeah, ok.” She sleepily agreed. “I just need to use the bathroom first.”

“That’s fine. Off you go, then,” Miranda gently pushed Andy off the bed. “I’ll see you in the morning… Late morning.”

Andy shuffled out of the room to collect her bags and headed to the bathroom. Ten minutes later she returned to her bedroom. With one knee on the edge of the bed, Andy began to shove at Miranda.

“What are you doing?” Miranda roused once again sounding rather testy.

“Move over. You’re on my side.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” Andy pushed harder, “Move… over.”

“Andréa…”

“You’re in my house and in my bed. Now shift over or go sleep on the couch.”

“Oh, for the love…” Miranda huffed as she slid to the other side of the bed. “I guess we can be grateful you graduated to a queen size bed.”

“Yeah, well, I like to spread out when I’m alone.” Andy mumbled as she snuggled into the pillow Miranda had just vacated. With the scent of Miranda swirling about her head, she immediately dropped off to sleep.

Miranda awoke with the sunrise and was feeling a little trapped. She quickly realized the weight and heat against her back was Andrea spooning her. She deftly extracted herself from the human cocoon and began her day.

Jury followed her throughout the house and even waited for her outside the bathroom door. Realizing that Andy would most likely be out for a few more hours, Miranda let Jury out to the back yard and then went in search of dog food. A search through the kitchen proved fruitless, so she stole Andy’s keys and went to search the truck. She hit the jackpot in the back where she found a large Rubbermaid container with food and dog supplies. Muscling the bag out of the container, she hauled it into the house and prepared breakfast for the dog. Then, after checking on the human supplies, she stole the truck and went shopping.

Andy arose much later in the day. Foggy from her disrupted routine schedule, she stumbled into the bath room for a quick shower, immune to the fact her dog wasn’t under her feet as usual.

A little more awake after her ablutions, Andy wandered through the house in search of her “loyal” companion. Noting the sound of surf through the back door screen, Andy ventured in that direction. She found Jury on the back deck, sleeping soundly at the feet of Miranda Priestly.

Miranda was reclined on a chaise lounge, bare feet crossed at the ankles, her body enveloped in a beautiful leaf print silk sundress, sunglasses in place, and a floppy hat perfectly perched on her crown. A glass of iced tea dripped condensation at her elbow as she casually perused a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Without even glancing up she addressed Andy, “Good morning, sleepy head.” Lowering her shades, she finally made eye contact. “Or, should I say ‘good afternoon’?”

“Hi.” Andy grinned back.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I stole your vehicle to do some shopping.”

“Oh, sure, that’s fine. Although you didn’t have to…”  
“I am aware of my responsibilities. However, we needed some supplies. I would have had to shop even if you weren’t here, so your presence really does not change things… much.” Her level gaze was intended to bring Andy to heel, but Andy bristled against the struggle for control.

“Yeah, whatever. Did you find everything ok?”

“Of course. As I told you last night, I have been coming here for quite some time now.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

“Anyway, I purchased necessities, and I explored the farmers’ market over in Mystic.” Miranda rose to her feet and headed into the kitchen with Andy mindlessly following. “We have some lovely fresh fruit that I’ve prepared, and some of that Greek yogurt you like. Would you like some fresh orange juice, or just coffee?” Miranda turned to check in with Andy and paused at the expression on the woman’s face. “What?” she inquired, puzzled.

“What are you doing?” Andy asked, completely befuddled by Miranda’s actions. “Why are you being so nice?”

The smile she received threw Andy back in time; back to their first summer, the memories and emotions choking her voice.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice?” Miranda asked airily. “Despite your rude behavior last night, I bear you no grudge or animosity. Am I not doing what any friend would do?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Andréa,” the cool voice cut Andy off. “As I have already told you, I have never stopped liking you. I have always considered you my most cherished friend. So, yes, I made you breakfast. Now, please stop interrogating me and eat.”

Andy dutifully sat at the counter and graciously accepted Miranda’s hospitality. Andy wasn’t sure if it was the residual exhaustion, the fresh beach air, or Miranda’s presence, but this day’s breakfast was the most perfect, delicious, and pleasant meal she could ever remember enjoying.

While Andy ate, Miranda moved about the kitchen cleaning and chatting amicably. She remained on safe conversation topics like the twins and her ex-husbands. She even safely ventured into Andy’s life by asking questions about her dog.

“She is a lovely animal. How did you come to the decision to own an attack dog?” She asked with an amused smirk.

“Funny, real funny,” Andy replied. “Actually, I did go looking for an attack dog when I found her. A year and a half ago I was mugged on my way home from work.” Miranda’s overtly concerned gasp caused Andy to quickly add, “I wasn’t hurt, really. Just a couple of minor bruises from being pushed down. I was practically tackled into an alley and the jerk yanked my bag from me and took off. I was stunned, then really pissed. I didn’t get scared until I was home alone and began to think how it could have gone down. So I decided I wanted some extra insurance. I wasn’t about to get a gun, and pepper spray wouldn’t be very effective in a similar surprise attack, so I figured I needed an extra set of eyes. Hence the ‘attack dog’.”

“Wise decision, I suppose.”

“It is. Jury and I met a couple of months later. Through a friend I met a really good breeder here in Connecticut. I figured, a person with, like, twenty years experience in breeding and training would probably know what she’s doing. She has her own breeding program and most of her dogs go into search and rescue, police work, schutzhund competition, and even herding.”

“That sounds very impressive.” Miranda put in.

“You wouldn’t believe. I did a lot of research on her and her dogs. It is really amazing what they’ve accomplished. Multiple champions in competitions, and working dogs all over. She even has one of her dogs working for the federal government in law enforcement. So I figured with those qualifications, it was a good bet I’d get a good dog. I didn’t realize she’d be a great dog.”

“How do you mean?” Andy’s story had captured Miranda’s full attention. Andy could see the woman’s mind working, probably trying to figure out a way to tie this dog thing into some sort of Runway article.  
“I mean, I bought this young dog and took her to school, like JoAnn, her breeder instructed. She is unbelievably smart, and so willing to learn. I’ve had so much fun working with her, and learning all the things she’s learning… we’re just really bonded.” Andy gave a meaningful side glance to Miranda who was leaning against the counter with Jury lying at her feet. “Apparently, she can be bought off.” Andy added dryly.

“Mmmm, one bowl of kibble and she’ll follow me anywhere.”

“Yeah, well we all have our price.”

“Oh?” Miranda’s eyebrow arched “And what might yours be?”

Andy chose to not bite that particular morsel. It was a conversation to work on slowly, so she instead just smiled sweetly and continued with her story. “I’ve actually cheated a bit with Jury. After the mugging, I was having a difficult time being out alone, especially at night. I wouldn’t use the subway after dark, and I would do everything possible to be home before sunset. It was really affecting my work. So, I went to see a therapist and was diagnosed PTSD. I went through the Delta Society and had Jury certified as a service dog. So, now I can take her everywhere with me. I was able to get my life back. And, I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t always have to have her with me.”

Andy stopped there. She realized she shared a lot more than she had intended and was feeling a bit exposed. She cleared her throat and changed tracks. “Hey, would you like to go for a walk on the beach?”

Understanding the out Andy was looking for, Miranda readily agreed. “I think that would be lovely.”

The afternoon was spent walking and playing with Jury in the surf. Returning to the house, Andy went to bathe Jury with the garden hose while Miranda began preparing dinner. They fell easily into their age old camaraderie. Andy finished cleaning up her mess just as Miranda was setting the table for dinner. Andy silently fell into step, helping transport supplies to the outdoor table.

Miranda chose to prepare a favorite of Andy’s; glazed salmon with corn relish, orange glazed sweet potatoes, and fresh corn on the cob.

Andy, like Pavlov’s dogs, began to salivate as soon as she saw the jar of corn relish on the counter.

Miranda could not help but be amused at the grin of delight that lit up Andy’s face.

After dinner they took their glasses and wine bottle and relocated to the porch swing. Feeling extremely comfortable, secure, and a bit overconfident from wine, Andy decided to return to the conversation that had been put on hold the night before.

“So, Miranda, why did you try so hard to cut me out of your life?”

Initially, Andy feared Miranda would refuse to answer. The silence lasted well into the realm of discomfort before Miranda sighed and began to, once again, explain her actions to Andy and, hopefully, be absolved of hurtful actions.

With her hands clasped tightly in her lap, wine glass momentarily forgotten, Miranda answered as directly and honestly as she ever had.

“I have always known, since I first met you, that you are an all or nothing investment. I couldn’t give you my all. No matter how I may have wanted to. No matter the pain of denial. I could not give you me. It would not have been fair to you and would have hurt you more to be just a fraction. So I kept you in my life though the filter of my girls. But I refrained from teasing you with what few crumbs I had to offer of me.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Andy jumped in. “I didn’t need all of you.”

“No, but I needed all of you. You saw it. You felt it when you worked for me. I was devouring you. I would not have stopped until there was nothing left of you. You got away and I was determined to leave it alone.”

“That isn’t true. That can’t be true. What about before Runway, before I worked for you? We had a friendship, didn’t we? Weren’t we friends? Why couldn’t we stay like that? Why couldn’t we keep our summer vacations?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Andréa. You were, and are a bright, talented young woman. I was intrigued and charmed into thinking I might be a good mentor for you. But, as life often shows us, it was not meant to be. You had to go your own road. You found your own way.”

“You’re still mad about my internship.” Andy accused vehemently

“Don’t be absurd.” Miranda flatly denied.

“If it’s not the internship, then it must be Paris.”

There was a definite frown that passed across Miranda’s face with the mention of their abrupt separation.  
“Miranda…” Andy coaxed softly.

“Hmmm?”

“About Paris… I‘m s…”

Miranda raised her hand in a motion to stop Andrea. “Don’t.” Her tone was cool, but not icy. “I do not want to hear an apology out of you. Paris was an unmitigated disaster. I have never experienced such unprofessional, immature, self centered behavior in my life.”

Andy’s mouth fell open in a gasp. She felt a slew of emotions racing through her. She wasn’t sure where to go with this accusation. “Miranda… I’m…”

“No, Andréa, I said, no apology from you. Must I repeat myself all day long?” Before Andy could respond to the probably rhetorical question, Miranda continued. “I was speaking of myself. I was not accusing you of anything.”

“I…uh, I don’t think I understand…”

“What was I supposed to do? I was married, a mother of two, old enough to be your mother. And you… you were not there for the job. You could not have cared less for the magazine… the business. No, you were there because you cared about me.” She leveled “that look” at Andy.

“You cared. I knew this. And it was beyond empowering. A beautiful, intelligent, competent young woman cared about me. All these other girls…assistants… all wanting the job a million girls would kill for. But it was you, Andréa. The girl who didn’t want the job. You, who wanted to make a life without my help and interference. You who denied everything I offered. It was you who disassembled me. So, what was I to do? I wanted you there with me. I needed you there. However, even though I could not deny myself of your presence, I could never act on my feelings. I was your boss. You were a junior employee. Even though I knew my marriage was, as they say, ‘tanking’.”

Andy had to smile over this.

“I was not about to risk everything I had to a sexual harassment law suit.”

“So…um…” Andy started, completely unsure of everything, “You were…um, you thought…I mean…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake”, Miranda blew out in exasperation, “Yes, I was attracted to you. I wanted you. All of you.” Before Andy could even take a breath to comment, Miranda went on, “As I said, all or nothing.”

“But, why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you ever contact me after we returned, after I left?”

“Again, I’m old enough to be your mother. Why would I ever think that a woman of your age and potential prospects would ever be interested in an old woman like me. Never mind the fact you never showed any inclination of bending in that particular direction.”

“Miranda,”

“Mmmm?” Miranda hummed, having just taken a mouthful of wine.

“I would bend like a freakin’ pretzel for you.”

Wine was spewed across the deck as Miranda coughed her surprise.

Andy easily chuckled at the un-Miranda like response.

Miranda’s face flushed beet red at the implications of Andy’s comment. Fighting to control her discomposure, she turned shocked eyes to Andy. Believing that Andy was simply blustering she demanded.

“Do you even know what you are saying?”

Andy took Miranda’s hand in her own and bravely stepped into the deep end.

“I know exactly what I’m saying. I know what I am implying, and I know what I want. I have always known. You said it yourself; I care.”

Miranda tried half heartedly to extract her hand from Andy’s grip. Andy just tightened her hold.

“I have always cared. I have always… I’ve always wanted a chance, but I never thought you would ever consider such a proposition.”

“I guess it would have depended on the one propositioning.”

“Ah, I see. It’s not a generic thing but a specific interest.”

“Yes,” Miranda answered, “Andréa specific. I’ve never entertained feelings of this nature with anyone before.”

“Don’t you mean with any other woman before?”

“No. I do not. What I mean to say is: I have loved my husbands, or at least one of them. And I absolutely adore my children. I have also loved my share of dear friends. But, I have never, in my life, experienced this all encompassing desire. This, what I feel for you, is a visceral need. When you were working for me, I almost drove myself insane with this. I knew from the moment you walked into my office, and back into my life, that everything prior was a sham. I had inklings before, of course. Like the time you showed up after Ellen passed away. But, my feelings at that time were tempered with a nurturing concern.”

Miranda paused, taking the time to study Andy’s face with her eyes and her fingers, tracing the contours, soaking in the beauty.

“There has always been a deep connection between us. A connection I never fully understood but, one that exists just the same. I believe it would be foolishly romantic and melodramatic to discuss the mythology of ‘soul mates’, but I do think there is some universal thread weaving our lives together. I do not believe it would be wise to break this binding. Would you agree?”

Andy gave the only possible answer she could formulate to such a consequential question. She leaned in and captured Miranda’s lips in the most gentle and loving tactical maneuver of this lifetime war.

They allowed the kiss to develop, tasting each other fully. It was a mutual understanding that it would only be a kiss this night. They were too raw and too new in their confessions to pursue anything more. Andy backed off and returned to her own seat, gazing almost shyly at Miranda.

“We need to wait for a while”, Miranda put words to their thoughts. “We cannot rush into this, no matter how we feel right now. We cannot jump into a physical relationship before we know each other.”

“I know. I wasn’t pushing.”

“Andréa, I think I am saying this more for my own counsel.”

“Oh. Ok then. Um, I guess we should call it a night.” They both rose from their chairs and began picking up the mess from their dinner when Andy added, “But, uh, what should we do about our sleeping arrangements? Do you want to make up a bed upstairs?”

Miranda’s face flushed with a soft blush. “I was thinking, we are both mature adults. There should not be a reason we cannot continue as we started last night. I must admit, I felt rather comforted having you with me.”

“Oh, so you, um, want to share with me?”

“If it is agreeable to you.”

“Yeah, sure. I can always sick Jury on you if you try anything untoward.”

They started the night with a respectable space between them. By morning they were fairly well entwined, with Miranda using Andy’s shoulder as a pillow.

Miranda woke first and effectively extracted herself without disturbing Andrea. She emerged from the shower to find the bed empty. She found Andy in the kitchen, sipping a coffee and working on her lap top.

“Good morning.”

“Hey, Miranda. Sleep ok?”

“Yes, thank you. I slept very well.” She watched Andy work for a few minutes before inquiring, “Are you on something important, or would you like to take a walk?”

Andy glanced up with a slight grimace. “Sorry, I really need to get this done. It was technically due last night, but I called in and got a half day reprieve.”

“Yes, well, I shall leave you to it, then.”

“Take Jury.” Andy called as Miranda left the kitchen.

“Very well. Jury, come along”, she called and, to Andy’s amusement, the dog trotted out after her.

Miranda returned to find Andy camped out on the couch, still working at her computer. She murmured a quiet greeting as she passed by on the way to the kitchen. She fortified herself with her fruit and coffee before wandering back into the living room to observe Andy at work.

Andy was in her comfortable jeans and a thinning white button up that was only half buttoned. The soft swell of her breasts were partially exposed, and Miranda became entranced with their rise and fall with each of Andy’s breaths. She heard herself asking “Are you still working on that article?”

“Hmm?” Andy looked up, slightly distracted. “Oh, no. I finished that. This is just some extra work I’m fiddling with. Why?”

In answer, Miranda moved across the distance between them and placed herself on Andy’s lap, straddling her legs.

Andy looked up surprised and found herself caught in a feverish kiss.

“I need this,” Miranda murmured against her lips. “I need you.”

Andy didn’t fight, but she did question, “I thought you wanted to wait. To get to know me again.”

“Screw that.” Miranda growled. “I can get to know you much faster this way.”

Andy leaned back on the couch and welcomed Miranda completely.

A light breeze struggled to push the sheer curtain out of the way of the fading sun. Shadows stretched across rumpled bed sheets, the carnage of near violent passion. The soft sound of peaceful breathing was broken by a near whisper.

“Why did you leave?”

“Seriously? You want to discuss this now?” Andy asked incredulously.

“Well… yes.” Miranda answered. “Why?”

Andy blew out a breath of frustration before answering evenly, “Because I had to.”

Blue eyes that had moments before been lit up with the fire of passion iced over and narrowed to mere slits, directing the laser focus to cut into Andrea’s mind and divine the truth. Miranda’s voice flat and cold repeated Andy’s comment back to her, “You ‘had to…’”

Andy pushed herself up onto her elbow and with her “Miranda, you are so insane” smirk she continued with her explanation.

“See? I knew you would be like that.” she teased gently to lighten Miranda’s mood. “I had to leave because, as you said yourself, I could see beyond people’s wants and needs to make choices. And I chose to save us.”

“What are you talking about?” Miranda asked, truly curious.

“I saw that you wanted me to be your protégé. I saw that you thought you needed my assistance in Paris. But, what I wanted was this… us. I missed us. And I know what you really needed was me in your life as your friend, not your employee. We didn’t… work… in the work environment. And the way you were treating me as an employee was destroying a piece of me every day. You didn‘t see me. You were seeing the me you hoped to mold, a miniature you. You couldn’t see the real me beyond your hopes and aspirations for me. ”

“You can’t blame me solely for that.” Miranda responded defensively. “You are the one who wanted to do it all your way… on your own. ‘No Miranda, I don’t want to use you’ she mimicked. “I just followed your rules. Everything I did was for you. No special favors. Do you really think I enjoyed crucifying you?”

“Miranda, I’m not blaming you for anything.”

Miranda had pulled herself up and was sitting against the headboard, arms now folded tightly across her chest to protect herself.

Andy crawled onto her lap, tucking her knees tightly along Miranda’s hips to trap her in case she decided to make a run for it. Then, tenderly cradling Miranda’s face with just her fingertips, Andy leaned in slowly, placing a soft kiss to Miranda’s cheek. She repeated the motion to slowly trace a path to Miranda’s lips. By the time she reached her goal, Miranda had released enough tension to be responsive.

Smiling against Miranda’s lips, Andy added, “And it was so not just for me.”

Miranda pulled back and in a voice of pure sugar retorted, “I have no idea what you mean.”

Andy laughed outright at that. “Oh, come off it. You were so mad at me for turning down your internship offer. You just had to lord it over me when you had the chance.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations. I believe I have no recourse but to plead the fifth amendment. “

Andy’s right hand began to slide down Miranda’s body as she moved in to continue with the kisses. “Sweetheart, that is gonna be the least of your pleading.”


End file.
